The 'F' Word
by Shy Snootles
Summary: After his conversation with Obi-Wan's spirit on Dagobah in ROTJ, Luke is thrown back in time right in the middle of ROTS, days before his father's turn. Stuck in Padme's apartment, he struggles to figure out the reason that brought him there.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: It took me 14 months and a few gray hairs to complete this story, so please be merciful. I would like to point out that I used the movies, and only the movies, as a foundation for the story, and not universally accepted facts and numbers from fanon, EU, etc. I also used my own 'canon', so to speak, meaning elements I've already used in other stories of mine. I hope you like it!

* * *

"Bury your feelings deep down, Luke," Obi-Wan exhorted the young man. "They do you credit, but they could be made to serve the Emperor."

Luke nodded almost robotically at his old master's advice. His mind simply wouldn't settle. Everything he knew, everything he was, screamed at him that killing his father was a crime as heinous as the ones his father had committed in the past. He felt, down to his bones, that there HAD to be an alternative. Cold-blooded murder should _never_ be a choice.

But what was the alternative? What was the solution for this seemingly unsolvable quandary?

"What happened to him?" he finally asked. The question burst out from the depths of his being.

"Does it matter?" Obi-Wan asked back, sounding infinitely tired.

"_Yes_," Luke nodded vehemently. "I need to know. I need to know that..."

"That you're not like him?" Ben smiled compassionately at his young pupil. "Physically, you look very much like Anakin, but where it counts... you couldn't be more different."

"How?" Luke pressed.

With a resigned sigh, Obi-Wan gave in.

"Anakin was always a... a tormented individual. Prone to fits of anger. He found it very difficult to control his emotions. Probably because he felt things very deeply. Too deeply for his own sake. He couldn't..."

"What?" Luke just couldn't let the matter drop. Not now, when he was beginning to uncover his father's basic personality traits. Maybe things would begin to make sense then.

"He just couldn't take no for an answer," Ben shook his head ruefully. "He wanted to do things his own way. He was a master at finding a way around the things that inconvenienced him. That made him unbeatable in battle. I lost count of the times he saved my life." For an instant, a fond smile crossed his features, lost in a memory of his young padawan that wasn't filled with blood and betrayal for a change.

"Is that why he turned?" Luke insisted. He was desperate to understand. "Did he go... too far in something?"

Obi-Wan sighed again, this time in defeat.

"I don't know. I've asked myself that question millions of times since you and your sister were born. We'll never know the answer, I'm afraid." He made a pause, gauging whether he should voice his strongest suspicion or not.

It was already too late. His hesitation hadn't gone unnoticed by Luke.

"I have the feeling it had something to do with your mother, though," he confided at last.

"Our mother?" Luke stiffened and edged forward instinctively. "Why?"

"Jedi weren't allowed to form strong attachments," Obi-Wan explained. "We lived a life of seclusion and contemplation, serving as guardians of the Republic and mediators of Peace. We had no possessions or aspirations, other than to use our knowledge in the Force as guidance and illumination. Any form of... personal involvement with others was forbidden."

"So Father went against the rules," Luke withdrew into himself for a moment, considering that fact.

"He lived a double life, possibly for as long as the Clone Wars lasted, fooling us all until the end."

There was a long silence, full of bitter sorrow.

"Anakin was always possessive about the people he cared about," Ben continued. "He had very strong opinions about what was right and wrong." He looked away, hurt evident on his face. "I'll always wonder how Palpatine managed to bypass those iron principles and twist his mind, turning him against all of us, your mother included."

"How well did he know the Emperor?" Luke asked.

"He knew him since he was a child, and considered him 'a mentor and a friend,'" Obi-Wan quoted verbatim. "He became very resentful of the Order when the Council asked him to spy on him. We weren't proud of our actions either, but the then Chancellor Palpatine was amassing an incredible amount of power in the Senate, and stayed in office long after his term expired. Something was clearly out of place, but to Anakin it was just treason, something that went against the Jedi Code."

"He stayed loyal to Palpatine even after he turned out to be a Dark Lord," Luke looked down, appalled. "Why?!" he enquired the Force ghost, eyes wide open in shock.

"All I know is that I said goodbye to him on the best of terms. He apologized for his arrogance and claimed to just be frustrated with the Council. At that moment, he was the warm, caring Anakin I used to know and I was proud to call friend. And the next time we met, he was already consumed by the Dark Side. He declared to have brought peace, freedom, justice and security to _his new Empire_." A deep shudder ran through Obi-Wan. "After destroying the Temple and massacring his brothers and sisters..."

Luke hissed and closed his eyes. Pain as he never experienced before slashed through his chest like a knife. He began to shake his head, too horrified to speak.

It couldn't be. A good and decent man, transformed into a murderous, unremorseful beast in a matter of days.

Why?

How?

"Your mother died believing there was still good in him," Ben's voice was hoarse with emotion. "Even then..." he bit his lower lip, unable to go on.

Luke's eyes misted with tears helplessly.

"I lived with the inescapable conviction that we failed him. I most of all, Yoda... all of us." Another long, heavy silence descended on the swamp after the heartbreaking confession. "He reached a critical point in his life and he had no one to turn to. Something pushed him over the edge and he chose the Darkness. After that, there was no salvation possible for him. His ambition and lust for power took over, and Anakin Skywalker ceased to exist."

"I can't believe it. I just can't," Luke kept shaking his head. "There _must_ be a vital clue somewhere that we keep missing. I refuse to believe that a goal as sterile as lust for power was the reason. Fulfilling his ambition to rule was a byproduct of whatever he was primarily after."

"Why are you so certain of him?" Obi-Wan asked, with a blending of disbelief and wonder.

"Because he offered me to rule the galaxy as Father and Son," Luke revealed. "Somewhere in that twisted set of values, he still... cares. I _know_, I've felt it!" he stated adamantly. "I won't give up on him. I have to save him. For himself first and foremost. For me, for Leia, for Mother... and for you too," he regarded his first master sympathetically.

"If you fail, everything will be lost; and for good this time," Obi-Wan pleaded openly.

"You won't lose me," Luke smiled the tender, sweet smile that would reassure the most cynical of men. "I told you before and now I'm telling you again." A rush of immeasurable sadness peeked through his eyes. "I have to try. His soul is as important as mine." The tears finally fell as he put his hand over his heart in a pledge. "He's my father."

Obi-Wan saw the passion and fervent commitment in the young man's soul. And to those he could only nod in acquiescence.

* * *

The X-Wing took off, lifting itself off the ground heavily.

"Artoo, set the coordinates back to the Fleet," Luke instructed his astrodroid, too distracted to acknowledge the cheerful beep of agreement. All he had were scattered bits of information that didn't help to make the picture clearer. Well, that and his gut instinct, a deeply rooted faith in his father that he didn't know where it came from.

He glanced briefly at his bionic gloved hand and winced at the brutal memory it brought back. Shaking it off resolutely, he straightened up. He couldn't change the past, but the future wasn't written in stone. He would make his own destiny, and if the Force was with him, Anakin Skywalker _would_ _be_ part of that destiny.

'_I caught a glimpse of your soul every time you touched me with your mind, Father. You don't only want me to help you destroy the Emperor and 'bring order' to the galaxy. You need me. As much as I need you. Give up your delusions of power and come back to the Light. Come back to me. For in the end, that's the only thing that matters. The love and the wisdom we leave behind.'_

He sighed poignantly, lost in thought.

'_We failed him. I most of all.'_

'_Your mother died believing there was still good in him.'_

'_He had no one to turn to.'_

"If only he'd had someone to talk to about what was happening to him... If only," he voiced his dearest wish out loud. "I'd give my life so he could have a second chance and do the right thing." His chest constricted with the pain of a wasted life that had condemned an entire galaxy to dwell in the Darkness. "If only," he begged the Force, and the Universe.

A vague feeling of dizziness made him close his eyes. The X-Wing drifted momentarily and Artoo beeped a warning.

"I got it, Artoo," Luke told his droid, making a face when his voice came out strangely slurred. "Wha...?" he began to ask, noticing that something was taking control of his ship, smoothly changing course and heading the X-Wing straight for the deep core. His confused brain had no time to wonder what was going on, before he passed out.

* * *

"Our baby is a blessing," Anakin tried to tone down the effect that his dismissive words about Obi-Wan could have had on his wife, who clearly only wanted to help.

They embraced, trying to shut everything out but the here and now; the war, the dangers that awaited at every corner, and now Anakin's own dreams.

The young man led them back to their bed and they lay down on it, clinging to each other. Padme fell asleep almost instantaneously, but Anakin knew it would be a very long time until he enjoyed a restful sleep again. He would know no peace until those he loved were safe.

'_Why?'_ he cried out in despair. _'Why do I keep having nightmares like this if I can do nothing to change them?'_ his arms tightened around the precious body he cradled to his breast. _'Not Padme. Not our child. They're all I have. They are my life. I can't lose them too. But what can I do? Oh, Force, what can I do?'_

His thoughts entered a downward spiral of anguish and misery that was awfully familiar.

'_No. No! NONONONONONONONONONONO!'_ was all his utterly distraught mind could focus on.

He lost track of time, blind and deaf to everything but the horror that devoured all sense of security and permanency that constituted the pillars of his emotional and spiritual equilibrium.

So withdrawn into himself he was, that the impact against the building took him as much by surprise as it did his non Force-sensitive wife.

The couple was thrown out of bed by the shock and the roar. Stunned and shaken, they ran towards the veranda as the aftershocks gradually subsided. What they found there froze them on the spot.

A small one-man fighter had crashed on the steps of their terrace. Smoke billowed out of the remains, and sparks flew out of the cockpit.

Anakin and Padme watched the surreal scene, too dumbfounded to react. Apparently, the protective energy shield had failed.

All of a sudden, Padme set off running toward the ship.

"Padme, no!" Anakin shouted, snapping out of his paralysis. "It could explode!" he ran after her.

"There's someone in there, Anakin!" she shouted back. "Bring the fire extinguisher, quickly!"

The young Jedi grabbed the bottle of fire extinguisher on the farthest wall of the veranda and casting all caution to the wind, he approached the small ship and sprayed it until the sparks and the smoke were out.

"Do you see anything?" Padme asked him from behind.

"There's a man inside," Anakin announced a few seconds later. "I'll try to get him out." He walked around the charred wings until he reached the cockpit. He used his mechanical hand to try and pry it open.

"Be careful!" Padme said, wringing her hands nervously.

For the first time in three years, Anakin was glad to have a prosthetic arm. Only brute strength could be of help now. The metal yielded at last, and he opened the cockpit all the way back.

An unconscious young man was leaning back against his seat. Anakin unfastened the straps that held him in place, and with infinite care, took off his helmet and put it aside.

When he was face to face with the pilot, he drew back with a start. His own reaction took him by surprise, but he couldn't help it.

The blond hair was a mess, and blood dripped down from the left nostril. Apart from that, there was nothing remotely scary about the man. Quite the contrary. The upturned nose gave him a very youthful appearance, but Anakin reckoned he had to be his age.

He probed him tentatively through the Force, and the answer he received was stronger than anything he had experienced before. He couldn't explain it or understand it, but something about that young man was more familiar to him than his own flesh and blood. He felt the pull, the instant connection, flow between them in a steady feedback that put all his fears at ease.

Reaching out, he took the back of the stranger's head in his hand and brought it close, putting it on his shoulder.

Meanwhile, Padme had walked closer to the ship, seeing that it was safe to do so now. She watched her husband free the pilot from the straps binding him to his seat, and take off his helmet oh-so-gently, to prevent any neck injury. But when her eyes settled on the pale, beautiful face that emerged, her hands went instinctively to her belly, just as the baby lurched inside her like never before, causing her to moan.

"Padme!" Anakin turned his head in alarm. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine," she forced herself to calm down, caressing her belly and trying to soothe the still wildly squirming fetus. "The baby just kicked my stomach, that's all," she blew out all the air in her lungs and turned once more to her spouse, who was lifting the young man's body over his shoulder. "Is he all right?" she asked in concern.

"He's bleeding through his nose and seems to have a concussion, but otherwise he's fine," Anakin assured her. "I'll take him to the guest room."

* * *

Voices. He could hear whispering voices in the background. Kind, worried voices that filled his heart with warmth.

"He was flying without an astrodroid?"

"That would explain why he crashed on our veranda."

"I think he's coming around."

"Excuse me, master, is there something else you need?"

"No, thank you, Threepio."

"Good night then, master. Milady."

That voice. He knew that voice. His protocol droid. Threepio.

He felt the soft touch of fingertips on his temples, and a familiar presence brushing against his thoughts.

"Yes, he's coming to."

The comfortable surface where he was lying sank a little under someone's weight. Seconds later, he felt the cool touch of a wet cloth dabbing on his forehead, his nose, and the sides of his face.

"Aahh," he coughed, "th-thank... thank you. T-that feels..."

"Shhhh, it's all right," a sweet, feminine voice hushed. "You're safe now."

Luke tried to open his eyes. He couldn't remember his eyelids ever feeling so heavy. And that strange, fuzzy feeling in his head...

The gentle touch of the wet cloth continued, and he leaned into the caress, wishing it would never stop.

"Thank you for... y-your kindness... I-I..." he coughed again.

"Don't try to talk. You're going to be fine."

He sighed, letting that warm, caring touch ease the headache on the right side of his head.

"Are you sure you've never seen him before?" the feminine voice asked the male one.

"Positive. Although... there's something about him that feels familiar. So familiar it's... unsettling."

"I know. I felt the same thing the moment I saw him."

There was a short pause.

"There is no doubt that he's a Jedi. He's very strongly attuned to the Force, and he's got a lightsaber. But he's never been to the Temple," the male voice sounded puzzled. "I wonder where and with whom did he train."

"He can tell you when he's feeling better," the warmth in the feminine voice was back. "His nose stopped bleeding already, and he's getting his colour back."

"I'll stay with him. Go to bed now, my love."

"We could take turns watching over him. You also need some rest."

"I know, but you need it more in your condition. And we've had enough... surprises for one night."

"Right," there was a soft groan as the weight lifted from the bed. "The baby's doing a number on my guts tonight. Typical Skywalker timing," the voice turned teasing.

SKYWALKER!

The word brought him out of his stupor faster than his body was ready for. His eyes popped open and even though the lights in the room were set at minimum power, he still winced and had to close them again. A quick feeling of vertigo and nausea swept over him.

"Hey, take it easy there!" the young man's voice came closer and strong hands held him in place. "You have a concussion, and now's not the time for abrupt movements."

"Did you... Did you say Skywalker?" Luke asked anxiously.

"Yes. That happens to be my name," was the lighthearted answer. The hands moved away.

Fighting dizziness and the worst feeling of foreboding, Luke opened his eyes little by little, getting used to the dim light in the cozily elegant room. Finally, the faces of a young couple standing by the side of the bed coalesced into a clear image.

The young man was tall and muscled. He had wavy blond hair and striking blue eyes, a straight nose, handsome and noble features that spoke of a keen intelligence and a strong personality, full lips and a dimple on the chin.

The petite woman beside him was so beautiful that it hurt to look at her. She had long, curled brown hair, dark and exotic eyes and a perfect mouth. She was wearing an exquisite blue nightdress that revealed her advanced pregnancy.

"Force. Oh, Force!" he moaned, putting his hand on his head. "This is crazy. This isn't happening!"

The couple looked at each other worriedly, and then came closer to him.

"Calm down," the young man sat down on the right ride of the bed. "Everything's all right. Your ship crashed on our veranda, but it could have been much worse. The most important thing is that no one got hurt. Well, seriously hurt, at least."

Luke put down his hand and stared at him. He reached for the Force, trying to ascertain whether he was unconscious and hallucinating, or everything was real.

The young man smiled impishly.

"Yes, we _are_ real," he reached over and squeezed his hand as proof. "Satisfied?"

Luke gave a start.

"Can you read my thoughts?"

"No, but you're broadcasting so strongly that your mind is like an open book."

Luke looked down, too disturbed to meet the intense blue eyes.

"Do you remember what happened, and why were you flying without an astrodroid?"

Luke's head shot up.

"I wasn't! I..." the room began to spin and he leaned back against the pillows.

"Easy," the woman said, sitting on the left side of the bed. "There's no need for you to be so agitated. If you can't remember, maybe it'll come back to you later."

"No, I..." Luke rubbed his left temple in circles for a minute. "I was flying with my Artoo unit through the Outer Rim sector. I began to feel light-headed and then... _something_ took control of my ship. I must have passed out, because the next thing I remember is waking up here," he looked around, experiencing the weirdest feeling of disconnection, of being out of synch with the reality that surrounded him.

The young couple looked at each other in silence.

"You were flying through the Outer Rim sector? How did you manage to get past the sieges?" the man asked.

"The sieges!" Luke exclaimed. "The sieges took place during the Clone Wars!"

Another silence followed. When it stretched for longer than it was comfortable, Luke turned his eyes to the silent couple.

"We *are* in the Clone Wars," the man enunciated every word distinctly.

Luke met the young man's eyes squarely and just like that, the haze that clouded his mind dissipated. His blood ran cold in his veins, and his heart went up to his throat.

"You... You said that your name was Skywalker," he breathed weakly, warily, dreadfully.

"Yes," the young man nodded nonchalantly. "I'm Anakin Skywalker," his eyes turned to the woman sitting on the other side of the bed, and after receiving a firm nod from her, his face lit up with love and pride. "And this is my wife, Senator Padme Amidala."

Luke felt like he was sinking into the bed. Sinking into a bottomless hole that absorbed whatever sanity he had. He was beside himself. He was mad. He _had_ to be mad! _Raving_ mad.

His eyes moved from the young man to the warmly smiling woman and back. From Anakin Skywalker to Padme Amidala.

From his father to his mother.

He _was_ losing his mind. This wasn't really happening. It _couldn't _be happening!

"And you are...?" Anakin asked affably.

Luke settled his eyes on the face he had prayed so many times to look upon since he had been old enough to know he was an orphan. The face behind the mask that had mutilated him mercilessly.

The very face that contemplated him so openly, so trustingly now.

"Luke," he replied in a raspy voice, never taking his eyes off the blue depths. "Luke... Stargazer."

Anakin smiled softly, and reached out his hand.

"Pleased to meet you, Luke."

Luke stared at the outstretched, mechanical hand, and something in his chest tightened painfully.

The answer to the prayers of a lifetime.

He observed his own bionic hand reach out of its own volition and hold his father's in a strong, unfaltering grip.

"Pleased to meet you, Anakin."

Their eyes came together and Luke couldn't, wouldn't look away. Such genuine warmth, such caring concern...

Anakin tilted his head to one side with curiosity, studying him closely.

Breaking the connection between them brusquely, Luke let go of his father's hand and turned to his mother.

"Pleased to meet you... Senator," his voice almost broke, but he managed to hold his own while he reached out his trembling hand to her.

"Padme," she grinned broadly, returning a solid handshake. "Ouch!" she let go of his hand and placed hers on her belly. "You'll have to excuse me. The Force is very strong with our baby tonight," she looked meaningfully at her husband, who returned her gaze with so much joy that it took Luke's breath away.

Just then, the implications of his mother's words became clear. He turned his eyes to the swollen belly covered by the nightdress. The belly where his sister and _himself_ were growing. He started back.

"Oh, my goodness!" he muttered, sitting up on the bed all the way and retreating into the pillows as far back as it was physically possible.

"What is it?!" Anakin and Padme asked simultaneously.

Luke shook his head, trying to catch his breath and struggling to pull himself together.

"N-nothing. I-I just... I can't understand what happened, and I deeply regret that I broke into your lives like this. If something happened to you because of me..." he shook his head again and covered his face in his hands, as the shock finally caught up with him.

"There's nothing for you to worry about," Anakin put his left hand on his shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. "Nothing of what happened was your fault. You'll stay here until you heal, and then we'll help you to return home."

Luke let out a sarcastic sound and put down his hands. He felt so cold all of a sudden...

"You're shaking," Anakin whispered, rising to his feet. "Come on, get back in bed. You're still in shock."

Padme stood up as well and reached for the cloth on the bedside table where she had put it. She soaked it again in the half-filled bowl there, wrung it out and handed it to her husband. Then, she bent down and put the back of her hand on Luke's forehead, who'd obediently slid back in the bed.

"You've got no fever, thankfully," she said with a sigh of relief. Not knowing why, she allowed her thumb to caress the soft skin and the hair on the top of the blond head. "Rest now, Luke. You'll be feeling much better in the morning," she smiled down at him affectionately.

"Thank you," he smiled back at her tremulously, wishing to hold that small hand in his own and never let it go. _'Oh, Mother...'_

Anakin walked over to her and kissed her lovingly on the lips.

"Sleep well, my love."

"Wake me up if something happens," she whispered into his lips.

Anakin smiled, framed the side of her face in his hand and kissed her one last time.

Luke watched her go, biting his lower lip.

When she disappeared from sight, Anakin turned back to Luke and sat down on the side of the bed his wife had vacated. He smiled down at him and applied the wet cloth to his face, forehead and temples.

"Does it hurt?" he asked softly.

"Not really," Luke replied. "I feel... fuzzy, I guess."

Anakin nodded and a comfortable silence ensued.

"Are you a Jedi?" he asked after a while.

Luke smiled poignantly.

"I try to be," he fixed his gaze on the ceiling.

"You've never been to the Temple, but you've obviously been trained," Anakin stated.

Luke could see where this line of conversation was leading, and determined to protect his family, he turned his eyes to his father and held his gaze steadily.

"I have, but not... in this reality."

Anakin tensed visibly.

"What do you mean?"

Luke chose his next words very carefully.

"I don't... belong here."

Anakin's eyes blinked uncomprehendingly, a wordless question in them.

"This..." Luke's eyes swept around the room, "...time is not my own."

Anakin moved back and concentrated his senses on him.

"Is that why you talked about the sieges in the past tense earlier?" he asked, most perceptively.

Luke nodded.

"I don't know what happened. I can't understand why I ended up here. But there's one thing I _do_ know," he raised his head from the pillow and met his father's eyes earnestly. "Every hour, every _minute_ I spend here, I could change history unknowingly. My presence is a danger, to you and this time."

Anakin's loud respiration was the only sound in the room for several seconds.

"I don't know if I already changed history irrevocably when I crashed on your veranda, but to minimize the damage, I'm asking you to let me hide somewhere, until I repair my ship."

Anakin remained silent, considering Luke's words and the infinite possibilities they implied.

"If that's true, I concur that you should hide somewhere," he nodded in agreement. "And this is the right place for you."

Luke opened his mouth immediately, but Anakin silenced him by rising his hand.

"No, hear me out," he asked. "If you already _changed history_, which I doubt, it will only affect the three of us. But if we hide you somewhere else, the risk would increase exponentially and we can't take that chance." He gnawed his bottom lip nervously, as if fighting his next decision. "My marriage to Senator Amidala is a secret, and this apartment is as close to a fortress as it gets. You won't be found here, you have my promise."

'_He lived a double life, possibly for as long as the Clone Wars lasted, fooling us all until the end.'_

So, Obi-Wan had been correct.

Luke swallowed with great difficulty.

"You're right, of course," he looked away, too tired to think. He made a resigned face. "I thank you for your hospitality, and I'm very sorry about all this."

"You apologized already," Anakin smiled at him fondly. "Sleep now. My wife's got a meeting with the Senate tomorrow, and I have a briefing first thing in the morning." All at once, he seemed to remember something, and his features darkened markedly.

"What's wrong? Are you all right?" Luke asked, feeling a soul-wrenching fear tear at his father's emotional stability.

"It's nothing," Anakin denied sharply, not looking at him.

The unfathomable abyss opening in his father's heart hit Luke like a tidal wave.

"I feel the conflict within you," he whispered shakily. "If you need someone to talk to... here I am," he offered himself with all his soul.

The blue eyes softened just as swiftly and met his.

"There is nothing anyone can do," Anakin smiled bitterly. "But I _will_ find a way... somehow."

Luke shuddered at that, not knowing why.

"The Force is very strong with you, but don't take pride in your invulnerability for it's only an illusion, and you could pay dearly for it," the words were out of his lips before he could hold them back. "Believe me, I _know_ what I'm talking about," he touched the inside of his right wrist surreptitiously, the constant reminder of the lesson so brutally learned.

An ironic smile appeared on the smooth features that cried out where he came from.

'_Physically, you look very much like Anakin, but where it counts... you couldn't be more different.'_

"You speak like master Yoda," his father said with an edge of frustration. "Only in terms I can actually understand."

Luke smiled innocently.

"It's just that I..." Anakin's words died down as his gaze intensified.

"What?" Luke asked.

"I-I don't know," Anakin said, looking lost and very young. "There's something about you that... I felt it the moment I saw you. Something that makes me feel very strange, very... _connected_ to you."

Luke closed his eyes briefly.

'_Oh, Father... if you only knew...'_

"I feel that connection too," he confessed, almost mournfully. "And I would be honoured if I could help you in any way before I left."

Anakin's eyes roamed his face, as if trying to make sense of his feelings.

"I wish you could," he murmured longingly.

They looked down, lost in their own 'what if' regrets.

"Sleep now," Anakin repeated encouragingly, coming out of his gloomy mood. "And while we are away tomorrow, Threepio - our droid – will provide you with anything you need."

Luke nodded mutely at that. He had a lot to process and meditate about in the morning. Hopefully, the Force would give some answers as to why and for what purpose he had turned back in time, risking his own existence, his parents', and maybe the universe as they all knew it. He smiled up at his father gratefully, who grinned back and continued dabbing on his face with the wet cloth.

He'd always felt very self-conscious about falling asleep while others were watching over him, ever since he was a child, but for the first time in his life, he just closed his eyes and sleep overtook him like a cool breeze.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	2. Chapter 2

Luke opened his eyes to a sunny morning. The sunlight filtered through the half-closed blinds, warming the room. He felt a bit sore but otherwise fine. He sighed out loud and allowed his mind to wander a little, as his eyes swept around the elegant furniture.

Out of the blue, everything came back to him and he jumped out of bed, regretting it the moment a wave of dizziness made him sway on his feet. He took deep, calming breaths until it passed.

He was in nothing but his underwear. He looked around cautiously, but there was no sign of his clothes.

As if on cue, the door of his room slid open and a very familiar form walked in.

"Good morning, sir," an extraordinarily polished and shiny Threepio greeted him.

"Good morning, Threepio," Luke greeted him back, unable to help a smile at seeing his protocol droid again.

The droid walked over to the easy chair in the corner of the room, and deposited the clothes he was carrying draped over his arm on it.

"Your clothes are clean and ready to wear. And you can use master Anakin's spare pair of slippers," he put them on top of his clothes.

"Thank you," Luke nodded at the droid.

"You're very much welcome, sir," the droid bowed his head courteously. "What would you like to have for breakfast?"

"Ah, juice and any piece of fruit you have will be fine," Luke said, reaching for his clothes.

"I will prepare everything in a moment, sir."

"I'll be out in a few minutes, Threepio. Thank you," Luke assured him, following the droid with his eyes when he exited the room. So much like his old Threepio, but not quite. And that not quite translated into a piercing feeling of sadness.

Shaking it off, he quickly got dressed and put on his father's slippers. They were almost the same size. He picked up his lightsaber from the bedside table and left the guest room with a little grin on his face.

He didn't know how he'd expected it to be, but the apartment was an immense surprise. Big, spacious and simply decorated, but so stylish. An occasional picture or sculpture decorated the corridor. When he entered the living room, he had to hold back a gasp.

The wall-wide windows and the crowded, bustling city life outside shocked him breathless. Mesmerized, he walked up to the nearest window and looked out in sheer wonderment.

There were buildings everywhere, massive skyscrapers as far as the eye could see. Thousands and thousands of speeders zoomed past in every direction. All technology, all civilization. That was Coruscant, planet-city and capital of the galaxy.

Blown away, Luke could do nothing but stare and try to take it all in. It was inconceivable, so beyond anything he'd ever imagined...

"Sir?"

Luke gave a start and turned about.

"Coming, Threepio," he replied as nonchalantly as he could manage.

The floor of the whole apartment was carpeted, and the decoration in cream tones was almost minimalistic, but strangely warm and cozy. The kitchen was just as bright as the other rooms, with a huge window on one side and white furniture, including the table and the four padded chairs.

He sat at the table and proceeded to enjoy the breakfast Threepio had prepared for him. Corellian apple juice - his favourite - and all sorts of pieces of fruit he knew, plus others he'd only heard about.

"Is there something else you need, sir?" Threepio asked him when he was about to finish.

Luke took the final sip from his glass and wiped his mouth with the exquisite light blue napkin, that felt like Aquarian silk.

"No, thank you, Threepio. I think I'll go out to the veranda now and try to meditate."

"Understood, sir," Threepio said, taking the tray with Luke's leftovers and empty glass. "Master Anakin always meditates at the veranda. The few times he's home, at least."

Luke's ears pricked up at that.

"He doesn't spend much time here?" he asked the droid.

"Whenever the war allows him," Threepio replied. "He's usually out for months in a row."

"I see," Luke nodded ruefully. "It will be hard for M... senator Amidala."

"Yes, sir. It is," Threepio turned to him and met his eyes. "She misses him terribly."

There was a pause where Luke almost thought that the droid could read him with those rounded, bright, eerily soulful eyes.

"I'm so sorry for both," he said softly. It had to be a heartbreaking situation for two people as young as his parents were.

To be honest, he'd never expected his parents to be so young. For some reason, he assumed they'd be in their late twenties or early thirties when they conceived him and Leia. He was obviously mistaken.

"If you won't be needing me, sir, I'll close down for a little while," Threepio threw him out of his reverie.

"Oh, no, go ahead, by all means," Luke said, holding back a smile. What an endearing feeling of deja vu.

He rose from the chair and left the kitchen, calmly retracing his steps and continuing to the end of the corridor, where a massive semicircular veranda opened before his eyes. Giant dark sculptures and tall columns connected by flimsy curtains flanked it, and a small bubbling fountain stood right in the centre. Two semicircular sofas faced each other right behind the fountain. It was a beautiful setting, perfect for peaceful contemplation.

He stopped when he reached the fountain and looked around, familiarizing himself with the place almost immediately. How different and sophisticated his parents' lives had been, compared to the simple, uncomplicated life of a moisture farmboy on Tatooine!

His attention was drawn towards the inferior steps of the staircase. They were chipped several metres across, and several blocks had been torn off. That was clearly the spot where he had crashed his X-Wing.

He winced at his helpless situation. Everything inside him cried out that he couldn't stay, but whatever he did, he was trapped. If he stayed, he could change history by interfering with his parents' lives, and if he went away, he could change history in countless different ways out there.

Turning around, he headed for the semicircular sofas. He sat down and leaned back against the small cushion behind him, deep in thought. Only the Force could provide the answers he was in desperate need of, so making up his mind, he stood and walked to the front of the veranda, right at the top of the wide staircase. After several deep intakes of breath, he sat down cross-legged on the floor and allowed himself to be swept away by the endless activity out there and the quiet murmur of the water at his back. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his calm centre, that special place within where everything stopped, and it was only himself and his inner voice whispering to him in the form of infinite shapes, textures, scents and colours, flashes of images and sounds that floated before him.

'_Luke is special, Owen, you know that. He can't help seeing things before they happen.'_

'_Our duty is to protect him, Beru. From himself, if we have to.'_

'_The Force is what gives the Jedi his power.'_

'_Is the Dark Side stronger?'_

'_I don't want to lose you to the Emperor the way I lost Vader.'_

'_Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father.'_

'_Son, come with me.'_

'_Your father was seduced by the Dark Side of the Force.'_

'_Anakin was always a tormented individual.'_

'_He felt things very deeply.'_

'_He just couldn't take no for an answer.'_

'_Something pushed him over the edge and he chose the Darkness.'_

'_I won't give up on him.'_

'_I have to save him.'_

Progressively, his deep level of meditation began to shift and his senses opened, beginning to encompass the reality that surrounded him as well, incorporating it in his perceptions and seeking answers through their resonance into the Force.

The vilest, most repugnant wave of Darkness, like viscous tentacles of insatiable greed and lust for power threw him out of his meditative state, sending him dashing for the bathroom. He could barely hold it until he reached it, and he vomited his entire breakfast down the toilet.

When the nausea stopped and he managed to calm down, he flushed and stood up on shaky legs, all bathed in sweat and trembling like a leaf. Reaching over, he removed a moistened towelette from a dispenser on the wall and wiped his mouth.

"Are you all right, sir?" Threepio's voice asked, sounding muffled from his side of the door.

"Yes," Luke rasped out, filling a glass with water and quickly rinsing his mouth. "I'll be out in a moment. Don't worry, Threepio."

"If you need anything, just let me know, sir."

"I-I will, thank you," Luke replied, putting the empty glass on the narrow crystal shelf under the mirror and studying his reflection warily. He had rings under his eyes and his features were drawn and drained, as if something had sucked the life out of him. Swallowing hard, he straightened his back and turned to the door. He needed to lie down for a little while.

* * *

Back on the bed in the guest room, he stared at the ceiling in silence, wondering what had happened. A veil of throbbing, breathing Darkness seemed to be closing in on him, suffocating his lifeforce. But the strangest thing was that the _sense_ of it wasn't really foreign to him. He'd felt it strongly in the cave on Dagobah where he had confronted Vader's illusion, and every single moment since leaving the planet. But it was more like a weak background signal, something he could easily block from his mind and ignore.

But the instant he had expanded his Force awareness here, it had pounced on him like a predator on its natural prey.

Whatever it was, it was close. Very, very close.

He sat up on the bed when the answer became self-evident.

He was on Coruscant. The galactic Senate was located here. Therefore, Chancellor Palpatine must be here also! It was his presence into the Force that he was perceiving.

He would have to strengthen his mental shields if he wanted to remain undiscovered. The shroud of the Dark Side was so intense all around that it made him physically sick.

This revelation posed a very disturbing question, however. Why couldn't his father feel it too?

'_He knew him since he was a child, and considered him a mentor and a friend.'_

A trap! The most elaborate, cunning trap. One that had been orchestrated methodically for years, with one sole purpose in mind.

Absolute control. Absolute power. Absolute domination of the galaxy and all the beings that inhabited it.

'_Anakin was always possessive about the people he cared about.'_

Could that have been the key, or one of the keys, of his father's turn? Was his father forced to choose between loyalties and he chose the Emperor? _Why?_ What did he have to gain by choosing the Dark Side? What was so important to turn his back on a lifetime of iron principles and unyielding concepts of good and evil?

And now that he had been thrown into the most critical moment of his parents' and the very galaxy's lives, what was he supposed to do? What role was he supposed to play? Was he supposed to play any role _at all_? Was he here as a mere witness? Was this the Force's way to answer his question: _"What happened to him?"_

Whatever the answer was, he needed it _now_, so he knew what to do.

He lay down on the bed again and turned onto his right side, exhausted beyond belief. He opened the blinders through the Force and looked at the tall skyscrapers in the distance, and the speeders zooming back and forth. So many millions of people out there, and he had never felt so utterly, so devastatingly alone. So lost.

* * *

He didn't know he had fallen asleep until he heard the sound of someone knocking on his door. He sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Enter," he said.

The door slid open and Threepio walked in, as composed as ever.

"Excuse me, sir, I thought you'd want to know that Senator Amidala just arrived. If you're keen to meet up with her, she would be delighted to spend the evening with you."

Evening? Was it evening already? He must have slept longer than he thought.

Luke felt something pull at his heartstrings at the invitation.

'_Mother. Oh, Mother...'_ he moaned inside.

Personal needs aside, he had to proceed with extreme caution. He didn't know what kind of damage being around his pregnant mother could cause to her, his twin sister and himself.

"Tell her it'll be my honour to meet with her, and I'll see her in a few minutes," he told the droid, slowly rising to his feet.

"Very well, sir," Threepio nodded, turned about and left.

Luke slid his hand through his hair, feeling a bit hesitant; yet, he couldn't put off meeting his mother now, so he went to the bathroom and washed up. He made himself as presentable as he could, squared his shoulders and took a deep breath.

The young woman looking pensively out of the large window in the living room was more strikingly beautiful in daylight, if that was possible. She wore the most amazing dress he'd ever seen. Thick, dark brown velvet that touched the floor, and a thin red band around her waist. Her dark curled hair fell all the way down her back.

'_So much like Leia,'_ was the first thought that came to mind. _'The same stance, the same quiet authority, tempered by an inner gentleness that's less noticeable in Leia's character, but that runs just as deep.'_

Feeling him coming, his mother turned her head and smiled. Luke returned her smile from the core of his being.

'_Mother!'_ his heart cried out.

"Good evening, Luke," she greeted him when he joined her.

"Good evening, Senator," he greeted her back.

"Padme," she corrected him for the second time, holding out her hand to him.

"Padme," Luke nodded in acquiescence, squeezing the small hand between both of his.

"How was your day?" she asked.

"Very pleasant, thank you," Luke replied, releasing the soft hand reluctantly.

"How're you feeling?"

"Quite recovered."

Padme tilted her head sceptically.

"You look a bit pale and haggard to me. I hope that's not your normal look."

"Oh, no. I'm much more handsome the rest of the time," the words were out of Luke's mouth before he could actually think them. _'Look at that, now I sound like Han.'_

Padme burst out laughing.

"That's good to know," she chuckled. "Cause Threepio said that you got sick in the afternoon," she was furrowing her lovely brows at him now.

"Threepio is somewhat fussy," Luke stated the obvious.

"So I've been told," Padme agreed, giving him a knowing little smile that he returned.

"Would you like to sit down?" Luke asked her politely.

"Yes," she nodded, falling into step with him. "The baby's kicking my stomach with a vengeance," she rubbed her belly, trying to calm down the fetus.

Luke stiffened and accompanied her to the couch, trying to keep himself as inconspicuously away from her as he could. They sat next to each other.

"In case you're wondering, Anakin took your ship to a body shop this morning," she informed him.

Luke's jaw dropped open in surprise. He had forgotten completely about his X-Wing, and he'd been out on the veranda a few hours ago!

"I-I totally forgot about it, can you believe it?" he told his mother.

"I can," she smiled at him. "You probably had other things on your mind," she gave him a prolonged intense look.

Luke picked up on what she was hinting at.

"Anakin told me," she confirmed with a nod. Taking a deep breath, she turned fully to him, conveying a vivid interest. "Are you really from... another time?"

"Yes," Luke said. "Where I come from, the Clone Wars already ended," he explained evasively.

He could see in her eyes what the next question was going to be, and he shook his head.

"Please, ask me no more," he pleaded. "My being here is an anomaly, and I can't take the chance of revealing too much. Force knows what the consequences could be."

"But the Force made possible for you to _be_ here," she argued with incredible insight.

"That's true," Luke admitted. "And until the purpose of my presence is clear, I can't tell you any more. Please understand," he met the beautiful dark eyes in earnest.

Padme held Luke's gaze, trying to come up with an argument to persuade him, but the look in those breathtaking blue eyes that seemed to appeal to her innermost feelings stopped her.

"All right," she dropped the subject, sighing in frustration. "Anakin's occasional cryptic statements about the Force are just as annoying. I see it's the same wherever you're coming from," she looked away.

Luke smiled, adoring that endearing persistence.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Padme's eyes turned to him.

"Why?"

"For welcoming me into your home. For believing me and my story, as insane as it seems."

Padme smiled against her will.

"I've been around the Jedi for too many years to know that there are things beyond our experience. This is a galaxy of wonders... and horrors too," her features darkened, but she quickly drew strength from somewhere deep inside. "But when I look at you..." her eyes roamed his face for a very long time, biting her lower lip at her inability to put a name to her feelings when looking at that young man. "I believe you. My heart believes you."

Luke ground his teeth, blinking hard to hide the tears that threatened to come.

"I..." he suddenly turned his head to one side.

"What is it?" Padme asked, looking behind him uneasily.

"He's coming," Luke said after a brief pause.

"Who?"

"F-Anakin," Luke caught himself in time. His father's inner turmoil resonated with the Force like an undercurrent of troubled waters. "He's upset," he muttered to himself.

"How do you know that?" Padme asked, in wonder.

"I can feel it." Luke breathed hard, quickly regaining control of his emotions. "I shall leave you now," he smiled poignantly at her. "Talk to him. You're the eye of the storm for him. Only you can settle his mind and his soul."

"But..." she began, her head boiling with questions.

Luke grasped her hand in her lap, brought it to his lips and kissed the back of it. Then, he stood.

"_Make him_ talk if you have to. He needs you now more than you know."

Luke had no idea where the things he was saying were coming from. Something was putting the words in his mouth, but as he spoke them he could feel just how true they were. How _singularly_ true they were.

As he turned around to go, he felt his mother rising to her feet and heading in the opposite direction, to the veranda, to wait for her husband.

* * *

Anakin got off his vehicle, followed by Artoo. He climbed up the steps of the veranda and greeted his wife with a sweet kiss on the lips. He was too distracted to focus on one single thought, but that didn't stop him from placing his left hand on her belly and caressing it lovingly, as it had become his customary greeting to their child.

"You're worried," Padme said, holding the hand on her belly and interlacing her fingers with it.

"Life's becoming too complicated, just when I need to keep my head cool more than ever," Anakin led her to the sofa and they sat there together. His gaze got lost in the distance and he finally heaved a bitter sigh.

"What happened?" Padme asked.

"The Chancellor appointed me to be his personal representative on the Jedi Council."

"Really?"

"He wants me to be the eyes, ears and voice of the Republic," Anakin turned his eyes to her.

"What for?"

"I think he wants the Jedi to have a say in the peace negotiations when the war ends. With our guidance, the Republic will establish itself as a system that every planet in the galaxy can trust."

"So?" Padme prompted him when he didn't continue.

"The Council elects its own members. I don't think they'll make me a master without some... dissension. And it's an added stress I don't need in my life right now."

"Can't you just turn down this appointment?" Padme suggested.

"Do you think I won't be able to fulfill my obligations as the Chancellor's representative?" Anakin's stare hardened out of nowhere.

Padme drew back a little, taken aback.

"I didn't say that. It's you who just said it was going to be an added stress you didn't need."

A pained look appeared in the blue depths. Anakin shook his head and looked down contritely.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take it out on you," he clicked his tongue, looking thoroughly discouraged. "I'm overwhelmed by the Chancellor's trust in me, but it doesn't feel like the right moment. The Council won't accept it."

"Why shouldn't they?" Padme reasoned. "You're Palpatine's right-hand man. You could become the link between the Senate and the Jedi Order. It would save us all a great deal of time."

"I know, but..." Anakin shook his head again in exasperation. "There are too many irregularities in the way of doing things. And when you circumvent the procedures, you're undermining the very basis of the Republic. I don't like it."

Padme reached out and squeezed Anakin's shoulder.

"We can only hope it will help to put an end to this war sooner."

"The end doesn't justify the means; and besides, I have... other considerations," Anakin's voice trailed off and he withdrew into himself for an instant. "Never mind," he straightened up. "How's our guest?" he smiled at his wife with true warmth.

"He seems to be fine, more or less," Padme returned his smile lively. "We were talking when you arrived. He left to give us privacy." Her face sobered when she remembered something. "It's strange. He could feel that you were coming."

Anakin raised his eyebrows in surprise, but then he turned inwards again, and something in him softened.

"I'll go see him."

Padme grinned softly at him.

"Good evening, master," Threepio's voice interrupted them. "Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes."

"Thanks, Threepio," Anakin acknowledged with a fleeting look at the droid.

"I'm going to lie down until dinner time," Padme told her husband.

Anakin nodded and brushed his lips against hers.

* * *

"Come in," Luke invited his father, half-turning towards the door.

Anakin walked in, feeling self-conscious at the sight of the young man looking out of the window. He was levitating a dark marble ball, keeping it still a few centimetres above his palm, exuding an inner peace that he envied.

Even dressed in black, the Light surrounded him like a halo, and it warmed Anakin's heart like the morning sun. It was as if all the problems in the universe disappeared in his presence.

"How are you?" he asked unnecessarily. He could feel it through the Force. It was as if that stranger's physical and emotional wellbeing was a part of him.

"I'm doing fine, thank you," Luke replied, placing the ball back on its base and turning fully to him.

A dark, stinking shadow lingered around his father like a greedy temptress, draining him of his psychic balance.

He recoiled mentally and physically from it, swaying on his feet.

"Luke!" Anakin exclaimed, hurrying to his side and steadying him. "What's wrong?"

Luke shuddered and steeled himself against the blackness surrounding his father's aura.

"I'm all right," he calmed Anakin, meeting his eyes. "I felt a disturbance in the Force."

"I didn't feel anything," Anakin said, releasing him gingerly.

"Maybe it's got to do with my... not belonging here. I'm being pulled back to my time," Luke tried to offer an explanation his father could believe.

How could Anakin not be aware of the Darkness around the Chancellor _and_ himself? Did he spend so much time in Palpatine's company – like today - that he was blind to it? And what about the other Jedi?

Somehow, Anakin found Luke's explanation hard to believe, but nothing else seemed to fit. And the look in those otherworldly eyes... Force, it was as if all his answers were contained in them.

"Your ship will be repaired in three or four days. Do you think you'll be able to hold on that long?" he asked.

"Yes, I'll manage," Luke affirmed, nodding at his father.

Anakin accepted Luke's word, even though everything he was kept telling him there was more to that young Jedi than it seemed. _Much_ more.

"Are _you_ all right?" Luke returned his question.

Anakin looked at him and ended up shrugging.

"This is a time of war. How could _anything_ be all right?" he replied ironically.

Luke cocked his head and gave him a kind, understanding smile.

With a sigh, Anakin relented.

"I feel lost, and confused. And alone." He turned his back on Luke and concentrated on the life out there. "That was always my greatest fear. To be alone. And at this moment, I feel as if everything I love could be taken away from me."

Luke stepped closer to his father, drawn to the need for comfort he gave off in waves.

"Why do you feel like that?" he asked.

"I had a dream."

Luke's blood ran cold in his veins.

"A dream?"

A long silence followed.

"I'm alone in this. If the Jedi found out I'm married, I would be expelled from the Order," Anakin said at last. "No one can help me, but myself."

Luke's heart filled with a bone-chilling feeling of foreboding. He could only guess at what his father was talking about, but whatever it was, it was taking him to the brink of despair.

He could feel the danger. He could _smell_ it. And it smelled like... death.

"Can you...?" he began to say.

"I tried to speak to master Yoda about it," Anakin kept talking as if Luke wasn't there beside him. To all intents and purposes, he was having this conversation with himself. "And he only said that I must learn to let go of everything I fear to lose."

Luke just stared at his father's back, letting him speak his heart out. Just being there for him.

"But how can I do that?!" Anakin turned to him unexpectedly with fire in his eyes. "It's the striving for improvement, to beat the odds, to make things better that pushes us forward. It's our _duty_ to try, to _keep_ trying, even when it seems there's no hope. Especially then! It's not a matter of fear but of protecting life!" His outburst faded as quickly as it came, and he turned back to the window. "If I had thought like that when I was a slave on Tatooine, I don't know if I'd have survived."

Luke gasped aloud.

"You were a slave?! On Tatooine?" he asked in shock.

"Both my mother and I were slaves," Anakin said unblinkingly. His eyes didn't move from the window. "I was freed after winning a pod race. My master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and his master Qui-Gon Jinn took me with them, so I could be trained as a Jedi. I was nine years old."

Luke couldn't believe what he was hearing. So many things that he hadn't been told! So much light that was being shed with every spoken word.

"This has been my life since then," Anakin continued his tale. "This is what I am." There was a short, intense silence. "This is _who_ I am."

"I... I understand," Luke whispered, looking inside himself. Upon leaving Tatooine four years ago, he had believed he wanted to be a Jedi because of his father. To be like him, to be the kind of man his father could be proud of; but it had turned out to be far more than that. On following his father's steps as a homage to him, he'd come to find his true vocation, the very thing he was born for.

It ran in the Skywalker bloodline.

So many things made sense now. So many things he and his father had in common. Not only because they were family, but because their characters were also similar in many ways. And he was glad that it was so.

Here before him was a very conflicted man, but one he was proud to call father. A man of great courage, deep compassion, and a high set of values.

'_What happened to you?'_ he wondered for the umpteenth time. _'How could Palpatine turn you? It seems impossible!'_

Anakin turned his head to look at him and when their eyes met, the connection between them reasserted itself with the most profound sense of peace and homecoming.

"I-I know you do," Anakin said softly, mesmerized by those eyes that observed him like... like they knew him. These weren't the eyes of a stranger. They were the eyes of a kindred spirit, of someone who knew well the level of commitment and sacrifice that being what they were demanded of them. This was a Jedi he could relate to, a Jedi who asked himself the same questions and didn't offer obscure answers that didn't solve anything.

He felt he could tell this young man... anything.

"Will you join us for dinner?" he invited, pulling himself together with effort.

Luke blinked a few times, getting a grip on himself just like his father.

"I'd love to. But I don't want to intrude into your daily lives more than I already have."

"It's the most welcome intrusion," Anakin's eyes came alive with unfeigned joy. "This is the first time we've had a guest in our home. Our first opportunity to act like a normal married couple, sheltering a friend and inviting him to stay for as long as he needs."

Luke's eyes skittered all over his father's features, committing them to memory one more time.

"Thank you," he murmured hoarsely, through the lump in his throat. "It'll be my honour to sit at your table."

The bright smile he received made him want to draw his father into a hug.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	3. Chapter 3

It was the most pleasant dinner any of them could remember. They talked about trivialities, discussed the tactics and questioned the many motivations behind the war; they even laughed a little. Luke mostly listened to his parents, learning more about the Clone Wars than all the history classes and holos he had seen in his life put together. He learned about all the battles his father and Obi-Wan had been in and decided with their mere participation. And he understood the price his father had paid, emotionally and psychologically. Anakin was deeply scarred, inside and outside, but also incredibly alive, living the day to the fullest and holding on to his family like an anchor, like the only thing that made sense in the insanity that surrounded him.

Through his mother's sparse account of the Senate's deliberations and decisions the past few years, he came to realize to what extent Chancellor Palpatine was manipulating the very course of the war, pulling everybody's strings and using them all like pawns in his master plan: to wipe out the Jedi Order and turn the Republic into an Empire under his absolute dominion.

His look of infinite sadness didn't go unnoticed by Anakin and Padme, who shared a quick glance.

"Is everything all right?" Anakin asked for both.

Luke turned his eyes to his father.

"Yes," he nodded. "It's just hard listening to you. To see the degree of violence and destruction we're capable of. How many innocent people are still to die..."

"There will be no more deaths when we capture General Grievous and the Sith Lord behind all this," Anakin's voice turned passionate and slightly vengeful. "They will pay for all the lives their greed and thirst for power have cost the galaxy."

"If the Council approves Anakin's appointment as Chancellor Palpatine's representative, things could start moving faster," Padme chimed in with a proud smile at her husband.

Luke choked on his juice. For a second, he thought he was going to suffocate, and Anakin had to slap him on his back several times.

"Palpatine's representative... on the Jedi Council?!" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes," Anakin confirmed. "But they have to make me a master first, and I'm not too optimistic about it."

A thick silence befell them all then. Luke could feel it was a very uncomfortable subject for his father and didn't pursue it, as much as he wanted to.

"I hope everything turns out for the best," he replied diplomatically, meaning it with all his heart.

"I hope so too," Anakin nodded wholeheartedly. "For everyone's sake."

Luke's eyes fell closed in bitter defeat. The saddest, most terrible thing of all was having the absolute certainty that even if he told his father the truth about Palpatine, he still wouldn't believe him. Such was his loyalty and faith in the Chancellor and Emperor-to-be.

The irony! One of Anakin's greatest virtues happened to be the biggest obstacle to overcome.

The young Jedi watched his parents lost in each other's eyes and holding hands, giving and receiving support and strength from one another.

'_Oh, Force! Why? WHY?!'_ he shouted to the heavens helplessly. _'Why did it have to happen?'_

* * *

The last part of the evening was just as quiet and peaceful. They shared a soft drink in the living room and talked about lighter subjects. His parents showed admirable restraint when asking him about his life 'in the future'. Luke revealed that he was an orphan and had been raised by his aunt and uncle, and how when they died he'd been trained in the ways of the Force by a solitary, 'renegade' Jedi, who used an alias to hide his true identity.

Anakin listened avidly to Luke's story, biting his tongue to restrain his curiosity and outright asking Luke for more details.

Padme reached out and took hold of Luke's hand, squeezing it fervently. Her eyes glittered with tears at the thought of that sweet young man being an orphan. It broke her heart in a way that she couldn't describe.

"Your parents would be _so very proud_ of you," she comforted him, conveying absolute conviction.

Luke covered the small hand with his own.

"That's the only thing I ever wanted," he confessed to her.

At that moment, Threepio walked in, followed by Artoo.

"Excuse me, master," he addressed to Anakin, "you forgot to tell me at what time the bricklayers will be coming tomorrow."

Luke's eyes opened like saucers at the sight of the blue droid. It became clear then why his own Artoo had disappeared upon his arrival. To prevent the paradox.

"Sorry, Threepio," Anakin apologized. "I have a lot on my mind lately. They'll be here around noon."

Padme misinterpreted Luke's expression.

"They're going to repair the staircase of the veranda," she explained to him.

Luke's gaze dropped in embarrassment.

"I'm very sorry. I can't pay for..."

"Don't worry about that," Padme squeezed his forearm. "This apartment - the entire building actually - belongs to the Senate. It will be mine until I step down. All repairs are covered."

"I'm glad to hear that," Luke sighed in relief, smiling at her shyly.

"Artoo," Anakin's warm voice made Luke and Padme turn their heads to him. "This is our guest, Luke Stargazer. He'll be staying with us for a few days."

Artoo rolled towards Luke, beeping a cheerful greeting.

"Hello, Artoo," Luke greeted the little droid back, feeling his chest constrict painfully. "It's nice to meet you."

"Will you be retiring soon, master?" Threepio asked.

Anakin met Padme's eyes and before Luke could blink an eye he turned again to the golden droid.

"Yes," he nodded. "It'll be another busy day for us tomorrow."

Getting the hint, Luke rose to his feet.

"I shall bid you goodnight now, then," he placed his empty glass on the tray Threepio was holding.

Padme and Anakin stood up as well. Anakin wrapped his arm around his wife's waist.

"Do you need anything before going to bed?" he asked.

"Oh, no!" Luke shook his head gratefully. "You've been so kind to me that I don't know how to thank you."

"It's our pleasure," Padme smiled at him. "Sleep well, Luke," she held out her hand and Luke squeezed it firmly.

"Good night," he released his mother's hand and turned to his father.

"I told Threepio to give you one of my pajamas," Anakin told him. "It'll be a bit too long for you, but I hope you don't mind."

"You didn't have to," Luke shook his head again, truly overwhelmed.

"I don't think the bricklayers will be here for too long. You can stay out of sight until they leave, if it'll make you feel better," Anakin winked at him conspiratorially.

"Good idea," Luke nodded, winking back with a little grin. "Thank you both for your hospitality. I can't find the words anymore." He reached out his hand.

Anakin returned the handshake fondly.

"We're glad to have you here. Somehow, it feels like a good sign in these uncertain times."

"A good sign, having someone crash on your veranda?!" Luke's eyebrows skyrocketed.

The three burst into riotous laughter.

"You're right. It *is* crazy!" Padme wrapped an arm around her belly, so hard she was laughing.

"Oh, well," Anakin said when the laughter subsided. "May the Force be with us tomorrow."

Luke could feel the shift in his father's mood, and something in him reached out to counterbalance the ugly feeling of foreboding.

"May the Force be with you," he uttered back from the bottom of his heart.

* * *

The following morning dawned as sunny as the previous one. Feeling more comfortable around his parents' apartment, Luke completed his chores faster than the previous day. He had a light breakfast while he engaged in idle chit-chat with Threepio.

"Will you be meditating again on the veranda this morning, sir?" Threepio asked when Luke was finished.

"Not this time. I'll meditate in the bedroom instead," Luke said. "Will you please let me know when the bricklayers leave, Threepio? I'd rather not bump into them by accident."

"Certainly, sir," the droid acknowledged, as attentively as always.

The young Jedi returned to the guest room after a leisure walk around the apartment, feeling his way around it, enjoying the spectacular views from the wall-wide windows and filling himself with the mostly pleasant atmosphere around the place. He sat down cross-legged on the lush bed, facing the window, and relaxed every part of his mind and his body. He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to wander, carefully this time. He didn't want to touch that veil of pestilent Darkness again. He focused on the Force itself, asking the questions he desperately needed answered.

'_Why am I here?'_

'_What am I supposed to do? Watch and learn? Or something else?'_

'_Please!'_

'_I need to know!'_

His mind's eye illuminated with the flashback of a fond, old memory. A memory of himself, training in the Millennium Falcon on the way to Alderaan, his father's lightsaber in hand, while Ben observed his progress closely - his first steps into a larger world.

'_Stretch out with your feelings.'_

Luke's eyes burst open. Was that what he was supposed to do? To follow his instincts? Basically _feel his way around_?

That didn't help much.

He let out a loud, irritated sigh, and unfurling his legs, he left the room, needing some fresh air.

The moment he walked out to the veranda, he realized the mistake he had made. He'd forgotten about the bricklayers, and now it was too late to turn about and hurry back inside.

"'Morning, sir!" a potbellied Bothan greeted him.

"Good morning," he greeted back politely. A quick look reassured him that they were the only two living beings on the terrace. Four cargo droids were busy removing the torn and chipped blocks of the staircase and putting them on a big container.

Piled up on the top step of the staircase were the brand new marble blocks that would replace the ones his unorthodox _landing_ had shattered. He frowned when he realized that the blocks were a few shades darker than the staircase.

"Excuse me," he addressed the Bothan. "Did you notice that these blocks are darker than the originals?"

The Bothan looked at the new blocks nonchalantly and then compared them to the blocks under his feet.

"Yeah, they do seem to be a couple shades darker," he agreed with a shrug. "We must have picked up the wrong ones from the warehouse."

"And why don't you send one of your droids back to the warehouse to pick up the right ones? Surely, it wouldn't take that long," Luke suggested.

"Come on, buddy, give me a break," the Bothan complained lazily. "We're falling behind schedule already and this'll only make it worse. It's the same material and colour, who cares about the shade, anyway?"

Luke studied the Bothan for a moment and then took a little, unthreatening step forward.

"But if I give you a break, that'll mean that the blocks meant for my friends' veranda will end up someplace else, where they won't match the originals either. And we don't want that, do we?" he swept his hand in front of the Bothan's face.

The Bothan blinked in sudden confusion.

"No... No, we don't want that," he repeated somewhat distractedly.

"You can leave two droids here and send the other two to pick up the right blocks. That way when they return, all the broken blocks will be removed already, and you'll only have to put the new ones," the young Jedi reasoned logically.

"I can leave two droids here and send the other two to pick up the right blocks. That way when they return, all the broken blocks will be removed already, and we'll only have to put the new ones," the Bothan repeated.

"Good," Luke approved with a nod, releasing the Bothan's mind gently.

"Good." With a small shake of his head, the Bothan turned to the droids nearer to the speeder. "You two! Go back to the warehouse and bring here the marble blocks with the order number..." he checked his datapad, "...1138B-2B. And take these," he pointed at the darker blocks. "Quick!"

"Roger," the droids said, picking up the marble blocks with their pincer-like arms and putting them back on the cargo speeder. Thirty seconds later, the speeder disappeared from sight.

Luke turned to the Bothan with a smile.

"A good job will always be rewarded. Happy customers always come back."

"Yeah... right. True," the pointed ears flickered, reflecting the Bothan's fuzzy state of mind.

"Oh, dear!" Threepio's distressed voice made the young Jedi look back.

"It's all right, Threepio," he told the befuddled droid. He turned back to the still mystified Bothan. "I'll leave you to your work now. Have a good day."

"Erm, yes. Have a good day you too," the Bothan replied absent-mindedly.

Biting back a mischievous grin, Luke walked back into the apartment.

"Please, give him a generous tip," he whispered to Threepio on his way inside. "We must practise what we preach," he patted the golden shoulder.

"I totally agree with you, sir," Threepio nodded, looking even more nonplussed than usual.

* * *

The afternoon passed swiftly. Luke had a light lunch and got to learn more about his parents thanks to the little tidbits Threepio shared with him.

The young man's gaze was lost in the skyline when he was suddenly assaulted by a poignant feeling he couldn't fathom.

"That's the Jedi Temple, isn't it?" he asked, pointing at a fortress-looking building with five spires on top in the distance.

"Yes, sir," Threepio replied. "That's where master Anakin must be at this very moment."

Luke nodded slowly to himself. He stood up and walked over to the massive window. The emanations coming from that direction were so strong that they overwhelmed him. Outrage, disappointment, betrayal, anger... they pounded on his mental barriers, almost bringing them down. He brought his hands up to his temples.

"Please excuse me, Threepio. I... I need to meditate," he muttered, turning about and heading blindly towards the guest room.

* * *

Shaken and trembling, Luke sat down cross-legged on the bed, trying to control his heartbeat and his respiration. His father's emotions ricocheted back and forth like the silent scream of a caged soul. Hurt, distrust, helplessness... So much helplessness! And lurking on the edge of those emotions, a bottomless pit of Darkness.

So close. So close! And his father still wasn't aware of the danger. He was too focused inwards to see beyond his own obsessions, beyond his fears.

"Force, help me!" he pleaded. "What can I do? How am I supposed to take this? How can I stand back and watch my father being consumed by the Dark Side? I need help. I need guidance!"

Just then, an unnatural calm settled on his father's spirit. An unsettling forced calm, as useless as trying to plug a volcano.

And that's exactly what his father was. A volcano about to erupt.

The soft knocking on his door broke him out of his morbid thoughts.

"Excuse me, sir. Senator Amidala just arrived..." Threepio announced.

"I'll be right there!" he replied, taking several deep breaths until he was composed enough to present a calm façade in front of his mother. Tiredly, he rose to his feet and dragged himself out of the room.

* * *

Padme was sitting on the living room couch, deep in thought. She wore a purple velvet cloak, a double yoke, and a matching purple velvet, intricately embroidered gown. She didn't hear Luke walk in, and only reacted when she felt the warmth of his presence on the opposite couch.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, shaking her head. "I was... thinking."

"A difficult day at the Senate?" Luke commiserated with his mother's situation.

"Another wasted day, or so it felt," she sighed, looking away. "Hours of amendment after amendment, that will lead nowhere, just like all the others..." she bit her lower lip, disheartened. "But I don't want to bother you with my frustrations," she turned her head back to him with a weary smile.

"That's what friends are for," Luke returned her smile with one of his own.

Padme examined again the kind, somehow eerily familiar features, and the words just began to flow.

"It's just that I keep remembering something Anakin said yesterday. Something that, in the light of the events that happened today and have been happening for too long now..."

"Yes?" Luke prompted.

"He said there were too many irregularities in the way we've been doing things. And when we bypass the procedures, we're undermining the very basis of the Republic."

Luke hunched forward, leaning his arms on his thighs.

"What I'm trying to say..." Padme worried at her lips, "...is that this war is _really_ destroying the principles the Republic was founded on. We're wasting our time in preposterous motions, and we're not protecting the system from those who're fighting against it. Today, for the very first time, I felt... I felt that maybe _we_ are the problem. We're nothing but bureaucrats with no real power to change things. And when politicians become _the_ problem, Democracy is no more." Her beautiful brown eyes raised to Luke's, almost in despair.

Luke tilted his head to one side sympathetically.

"Please, tell me it's not too late?" she asked weakly.

Unable to resist the plea in those desperate eyes, Luke stood up, walked over to his mother and sat down beside her.

"When systems become too self-complacent, they're an easy prey for those who crave power and will stop at _nothing_ to get it. The Republic's facing the greatest danger of all, and you _must_ wake up and act, or it will really be too late."

Padme fixed her gaze on Luke and _saw_ the danger he was talking about, as real and tangible as if it was staring at her in the face. She couldn't help but shudder in abject horror, but almost immediately, an inner strength she didn't know she had, urged her to stand up and fight to stop such a future from becoming a reality.

"You're right," she nodded at him emphatically. "And that's exactly what I intend to do." She set her jaw and pressed her lips together tightly, making up her mind. Her hand went instinctively to her belly, gathering strength from the touch.

Luke drew back, fearing that his nearness was upsetting the babies again.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Never been better," she replied with firm determination.

'_My goodness, it's as if I had Leia right in front of me,'_ the young Jedi marvelled. _'Mother, I am so very proud of you!'_

"I don't know how Anakin will take it, though," Padme shook her head in concern. "He can be so... unyielding in his opinions and beliefs..."

"Why? You just admitted that he was right in his assessment," Luke arched his eyebrows, puzzled.

"I know, but..." her gaze turned inwards. "This war has shaken many of the moral standards he's abided by all his life. If his faith in the Republic was compromised..."

"The Republic is not to blame. He's intelligent enough to understand that," Luke interjected.

Padme met his eyes again and ended up smiling in wonder.

"It's so easy to talk to you. Why do I feel like I've known you forever?"

Luke smiled tenderly.

"Because you're very perceptive?" he observed with a twinkle in his eye.

Padme's eyes narrowed, taken off guard by the humour in Luke's words. A slow grin appeared on her face.

"You're making fun of me?" she chuckled, still a bit uncertain.

Luke snickered and shook his head.

"I'd be much too frightened to tease a Senator," he looked down with a sheepish smile.

Padme's hand shot out and cupped Luke's chin, raising his face to meet her eyes. She looked dead serious all of a sudden.

"What is it?" the young man asked, intrigued by that intense look.

"You... You reminded me so much of Anakin just now... Your eyes, your mannerisms..." her eyes skittered all over his face searchingly. "You're so very like him that if I didn't know better I'd swear that you're... his brother." Her thumb went automatically to the dimple on his chin. "Even..." she noticed then that his eyes had glazed over, as if his senses were elsewhere. "Luke?"

"He's coming," Luke stated, his eyes focusing again on her.

Her fingers tightened on his chin.

"How do you know?" the question came out harsher than she meant it to. "What's this... connection you share with him?"

"The Force. His presence into the Force is very powerful. It resonates like... like ripples on a pond," Luke explained as truthfully as he could.

"There's more than that. I can feel it," Padme whispered, not taking her eyes off him. "You're here to help him, aren't you?" her features softened. For a second, it crossed her mind that it never occurred to her to doubt the young man's intentions. The mere notion was ridiculous.

"I don't know why I'm here," Luke spoke the absolute truth then. "I wish I did."

Padme's heart went out to the searing longing in his voice. Her thumbpad caressed the thin scar on his upper lip. Two idealistic, deeply scarred souls. Both carrying burdens that would crush older and wiser men.

"You _will_ fulfill your destiny, whatever it is. I know it," she breathed, almost in a trance.

Luke smiled wistfully and took hold of her hand, moving it away from his face and squeezing it with infinite gratitude.

"Go to him now. Tell him what you think and talk it over. I'll be with Threepio, helping him to prepare dinner."

* * *

Luke had never been a particularly good cook. He'd helped Aunt Beru every now and then, and he could cook a decent, albeit uncomplicated meal. The resources in the farm didn't exactly allow for expensive, exquisite foods; and after joining the Alliance, the case was practically the same. He was more used to rations and canned food than anything. Still, he was pleased to see that after a rather clumsy start, he could still use a knife to cut up the vegetables and calculate the amount of salt and spices the stew required. Both Threepio _and_ Artoo watched him in silence as he tasted the broth with a spoon. He swallowed and turned his head to the two droids.

"Not bad. Not bad at all," he smiled at them with a wink.

Artoo beeped excitedly, congratulating the young man.

"Let it simmer for five more minutes, and then we're all set," he instructed Threepio, putting the spoon back on the worktop.

* * *

Luke was helping the golden droid to set the table when Anakin strode into the apartment and walked past him without a backward glance.

The young Jedi's heart missed a beat at the dark thoughts spiralling out of control in his father's core. Leaning on the table for support, he ground his teeth.

And then, Anakin froze on the spot. His frenzied heartbeat calmed somewhat and he half turned his head in Luke's direction, drawn to him like a magnet.

"Good evening, Luke," he greeted softly.

Luke's head snapped up. Oxygen returned to his lungs and he looked up, feeling a semblance of peace settle in his spirit again.

"Good evening, Anakin," he greeted back, tipping his head to his father, not quite daring to look at him.

There was a short, hesitating pause, and then Anakin walked away.

* * *

Dinner was tense and awkward. Luke had never felt so much like a third wheel. Obviously, the conversation between his parents didn't go as well as planned, and even though they were still talking to each other, it was mostly in monosyllables. They shared fleeting looks that cried out they wanted to make up, but neither dared to take the first step. Padme's gentle overtures were met by a stubborn silence that didn't fool Luke. Anakin's brooding thoughts were full of suspicion. He was withdrawing more and more into himself and Luke shuddered inside, seeing more and more clearly where those misgivings would ultimately take him.

Suddenly, he couldn't stand it anymore.

"So, will it be a boy or a girl?" he asked. He gave a start, surprised by the sound of his own voice and how cheerful it came out.

And those were the magic words. Anakin's face lit up and turned to Padme, meeting her eyes for the first time since their discussion on the veranda.

"We don't want to know," she replied for the two of them, returning Anakin's bright smile.

"We both agreed that we want to do it the old fashioned way," Anakin nodded. "We'll know the baby's gender when we hold it in our arms."

"Anakin's convinced that it's going to be a girl though," Padme revealed.

"Really?" Luke turned his head to his father.

"With dark hair and dark eyes, just like her mother," Anakin's voice sounded like a liquid caress. "My little Princess."

There was a short pause, and Luke studied his father's features, marvelled at how that closed, somber face had opened up and shone with an inner light that had been missing until then. He had to swallow the hard lump in his throat.

"And what do you think?" he asked his mother.

"Oh, it's definitely going to be a boy," Padme replied, meeting Anakin's eyes teasingly. "With blond, _very_ blond hair and blue eyes, like his daddy. A little angel. Our little angel," she sighed, reaching out her hand to him across the table.

Luke bit his lips to prevent a choked sob from escaping. He put his fist in front of his mouth to hide how much this moment meant to him. Wanted children. Leia and him had been wanted children. The living embodiment of their parents' love for each other. To someone like him, who had been raised in total ignorance of his heritage, where he came from and from whom, to be reassured in this unambiguous way of who he was, and how happy it made his father and mother the mere thought of having him was the most profound validation of his existence.

There it was, in Padme and Anakin's joined hands, the breach between them fully healed now.

'_Force, I love you. I love you both so much!'_

TO BE CONTINUED...


	4. Chapter 4

'_If you choose to face Vader you will do it alone. I cannot interfere.'_

'_I understand.'_

'_Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father.'_

'_Ben, why didn't you tell me?'_

'_There is still good in him.'_

'_If you fail, everything will be lost; and for good this time.'_

'_It is too late for me, Son.'_

'_Your father can never be turned from the Dark Side.'_

'_Obi-Wan has taught you well.'_

'_Your hate has made you powerful.'_

'_I am a Jedi, like my father before me.'_

'_If you will not be turned, you will be destroyed.'_

'_Father, please!'_

Luke sat up in bed with a jolt, breathless and sweating. His heart pounded savagely in his chest and his muscles twitched involuntarily, still reacting to the excruciating torture the Emperor had subjected him to in his nightmare. He'd never experienced a dream like that, not even after Vader's horrifying revelation, when nightmares had plagued him for weeks.

What did that dream mean? Was he dreaming of the future, or just _a_ _possible_ future? Was the Emperor going to kill him in front of his father? Was his father going to allow his child to be murdered before him? Was the Dark Side _that_ powerful? Powerful enough to obliterate all traces of compassion and good in a person? Everything that made him who and what he was?

His ragged, laboured breathing sounded deafening in the silence of the apartment, in the oppressive silence of the night. He turned his head to the window, desperate for some light. Only the faintest glow filtered through the paper thin spaces between the closed blinders, making them look like bars on a cage.

'_Father, please!'_

Throwing the bedcovers aside, he swung his legs off the bed and remained sitting there, unmoving for several minutes. Finally, he rose to his feet unsteadily and felt his way out of the room.

His legs appeared to know where to take him, and soon enough he found himself on the veranda. He stood there, by the fountain, watching the city lights, the skyscrapers, the speeders zooming back and forth. A beautiful sight, that did nothing to assuage his fears, the ever growing sense of dread.

Was his father's soul truly forfeit in his Time? Was he hoping for the impossible? Seeing what he wanted to see? Were his love and his need blinding him to what was glaringly evident to everybody else? Was this young man who'd sheltered him in his home already doomed, and the entire galaxy with him?

Luke collapsed on the armrest of the couch, feeling defeat eat at his very marrow.

'_You can't be lost to me, Father. You can't! There's too much love inside you for your hatred to be stronger. Hate burns fast and leaves only devastation in its path. I know you know this! I know you'd come back if you could! If you thought there is still hope, I know you would return! Please, Father, it can't be too late for you!'_

Gradually, the four small disk-shaped lamps on the armrests began to glow, casting a soft light around that warmed him.

"Excuse me. I didn't know you were here."

Luke closed his eyes, quietly pulling himself together.

'_Oh, Father, do you have any idea what it means to me to just hear your voice? The gift that it is to be able to talk to you, to be with you? Will you ever know how much I cried, how much I prayed for... this? Just having this?'_

He felt his father padding barefoot to him, until he stopped right behind his back.

"I needed some fresh air. To get my mind off... some things," Anakin said.

"I can feel how agitated and on edge you are," Luke said, eyes fixed straight ahead.

"Did my... agitation wake you up?" Anakin walked up beside him. Luke felt the black robe brush against his shoulder.

"No," Luke shook his head. "I had some... nightmares of my own."

Anakin turned his head to look at him. He opened himself to the young man's Force presence and once again, it slammed against him with a strength he'd never known before. With the same uncanny sense of peace, homecoming and complete acceptance.

'_My goodness, who are you? How can you make me feel like this? Why do I feel like... like you are a part of me?'_

"I'm sorry," he sympathized out loud. "I know what it's like."

Luke nodded, abstracted.

"Have your dreams ever come true?" he asked out of the blue.

Anakin raised one eyebrow ironically.

"It's been known to happen once or twice."

The bitterness in his voice brought Luke out of his hazy thoughts.

"And did you do something about it?" he asked again, turning his head to the motionless man next to him.

"Yes," there was a brief, pain-filled silence. "Unsuccessfully."

Luke's eyes fell closed.

"Whom did you lose?" his question came out as a statement pregnant with sorrow.

"My mother," Anakin looked down. "Tusken raiders kidnapped her and tortured her for weeks. She died in my arms."

Luke squeezed back tears.

His grandmother. Shmi Skywalker. The name written on the tombstone before which he'd mourned both, mother and son. Even if his father had never been buried there.

"I wiped out the Tusken village after that." Part of Anakin wondered why he was talking about it... again. Why he was sharing an episode of his life that shamed him so deeply. When he had discovered a side of himself he never wanted to see again.

And yet, he had. Not too long ago.

Suddenly restless, he moved forward, leaving Luke staring at his back.

"Men, women, children. Everyone paid for it."

"And all for nothing, wasn't it?" there was no judgment or condemnation in Luke's words. Only understanding.

"Not quite," Anakin smiled self-deprecatingly. "A part of me died there too. I... disgraced myself as a person and as a Jedi. That night, I found out there's a darkness inside me that frightens me more than anything in the universe. I saw what I'm capable of... and it disgusts me." The tall form shuddered and the wide shoulders drooped in defeat.

Luke reached out his hand, and when it was about to touch his father's arm, he brought it back.

"We all have that... beast inside us. And it's terrifying to meet it face to face. But there's a lesson to be learned from it as well. The line that we must _never_ cross, no matter what. Or the beast will consume us."

Anakin nodded at Luke's words, feeling as if they had been made for him and only him.

That sweet, gentle young man was the most luminous and compelling source of Light he'd ever encountered. The poignant wisdom in everything he said that screamed he was talking from personal experience, resonated with him like an echo of his own soul.

He couldn't talk to anyone the way he could talk to that young Jedi from the future. Not Yoda, who projected the bearing of someone who's always right about absolutely everything, beyond the frailties of Human nature, and something as human as doubt. And sadly, not Obi-Wan. He'd been so close to telling him about his secret in the past three years! But ultimately, he knew that his friend and master wouldn't understand either. Their outlook on the Force and how it should be... lived and experienced couldn't differ more. In some ways, in _many_ ways, he was still an outsider. The slave boy they'd reluctantly agreed to train, and who still had to prove himself every step of the way.

What did they want from him? What was expected of him? No one tried harder than him. No one was harder on himself than he was. What did he have to do to show them he was worthy? What would it take for them to finally accept him as one of them?

The turmoil in his father's spirit hit Luke in a wave of heartbreaking, harrowing disappointment and loss. He seemed to be falling apart at the seams, and responding viscerally to that silent cry for comfort, his hand completed the gesture this time and squeezed the muscled arm in wordless support.

"What's hurting you so?" he ventured to ask, appealing to their blood bond, albeit his father didn't know it existed. "What's this sadness, this... wall you've put up between yourself and the others?"

Anakin hung his head low and shook it resignedly.

"Please... Anakin," Luke entreated desperately.

'_Father,'_ his heart implored.

For the life of him, Anakin couldn't tell what it was. The darkness of the night, the inviting quiet out there, something higher and deeper. The Force. Whatever. He just couldn't resist that voice that called on to him so intimately, like not even Padme could. No, not even his beloved wife.

Denying this young man was like denying his very flesh.

"The Jedi don't trust me... and I fear I can't trust them either. Not after today."

"Why?"

That's what was so special about Luke, Anakin suddenly realized. Any other person would be scandalized. How could he say such an ugly thing about the Order? About his brothers and sisters, with whom he'd been raised? In a way, he was also scandalized by his words, but that didn't change the fact that that's exactly how he felt.

And this young man, maybe because of where he came from, because he wasn't biased against or in favour of anyone, or simply because that was his nature, limited himself to ask a single question. No criticism or disapproval, just wanting to know _why_.

It was so easy to talk to him that it didn't feel like a courtesy, but a gift _they_ were giving _him_.

"They denied me the rank of master, but accepted me on the Council in order to spy on the Chancellor. So much for diplomacy and morality," Anakin snorted in sheer revulsion.

So today had been the day.

'_We weren't proud of our actions either, but the then Chancellor Palpatine was amassing an incredible amount of power in the Senate, and stayed in office long after his term expired. Something was clearly out of place, but to Anakin it was just treason, something that went against the Jedi Code.'_

Now Luke had access to Anakin's side of the story, and everything began to make sense at last. From Anakin's point of view, his resentment was justified; and what's more, Luke was getting a glimpse of a more profound, underlying issue: the Council's distrust in his father, as it became transparent in their refusal to make him a master. Anakin was aware that he was being used, and along with the feeling of humiliation and outrage, a lifetime of rock-hard beliefs and teachings was being put to the test, after being shown so graphically that principles could be bypassed when convenient.

Anakin was getting mixed signs that were turning him into a time bomb.

Still, there was something missing. There _had to be_ something else. What would ultimately make his father go off?

"I didn't know there were two sides here," Anakin's spirits seemed to abandon him all of a sudden. "I... I don't know what to believe anymore. Who do I trust now?"

"Reach out with your feelings," was Luke's spontaneous answer. "Leave aside your pride and personal interests, and turn to that place inside you that you still keep safe from all the horror and evil you've caused and witnessed. Deep down, you know what's fair and just. Forgive people's faults and try to see with more than your eyes."

Anakin turned his head and contemplated him with glittery eyes.

"Do you still think that something good could come out of all this?"

"Absolutely," there was unequivocal conviction in Luke's voice. "Find your calm centre and let it lead you to the truth. The salvation of the Republic could rest in your hands."

Something seemed to fuse in Anakin's head then.

"The Republic doesn't need to be saved! It needs to be protected from the Separatists and insurgents who started this carnage!" he exclaimed indignantly.

Luke grasped his father's shoulders and whipped him around to face him fully.

"Anakin, just like people, systems go astray too! And by refusing to see it you're not serving any good purpose, only perpetuating the problem. Sometimes, people _must_ take action and set things straight." He released his father and finished in a calmer tone. "Surely, you must have known this even before the Clone Wars started."

'_I don't think the system works.'_

His own words to Padme years before resounded in Anakin's mind loud and clear, as if he'd just pronounced them. His face flushed with embarrassment.

"Are you saying that the Republic is not a valid system?" he felt they were sidestepping the issue and not getting to the crux of the matter.

Luke raised his eyes to the sky.

"Good heavens, no! It's not the system that's the problem, but the people running it. What if... What if the Sith Lord you've been looking for isn't lurking in the shadows, but hiding in plain sight? Maybe as a politician, a Senator, pulling the strings and using you all like puppets?"

Luke knew he was revealing too much, although his father had no way to know. He didn't want to influence Anakin's line of thinking, but he feared he just might have done so.

Anakin's eyes went huge.

"What... what did you say?"

He'd definitely talked too much, Luke acknowledged with boundless regret.

"You must consider _all_ the possibilities, Anakin. All of them, not only the ones inside your comfort zone," he advised, locking eyes with his father.

After a moment of deep staring, the two young men drew apart, exhausted by the intense verbal sparring they'd just had.

"Forgive me," Luke whispered hoarsely after a minute, looking into the distance. "I have no right to question the world you live in. This isn't my Time, and I know nothing about the intricacies of..."

"No," Anakin interrupted him, his voice sounding just as hoarse. "You're right. There *are* things I never thought to consider, and you just opened my eyes," he wrapped his arms around himself as if a freezing breeze had settled in his soul. "Would you please leave me alone now? I... I need to meditate."

Luke hesitated. He could feel how shaken his father was after their conversation, and something in him simply refused to leave him alone with his thoughts.

"A-are you sure?" he asked, biting the inside of his mouth. "It's late and..."

Anakin turned his head. Incredibly, there was a little smile on his lips.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. I have no duties tomorrow, and I can afford to sleep late. We'll spend the day together," the smile on the full lips widened genuinely.

Luke's heart sang with a pure, childlike happiness he had never known.

"I will love to spend the day with you," his cheeks reddened with joy.

Anakin laughed softly despite himself.

"The pleasure will be mine, little one," he reached out and ruffled Luke's hair fondly. Just then, he realized what he'd just said and done and pulled back, blushing to the roots of his hair. "I'm sorry! I don't know what made me..."

"I'm not offended," Luke said with sparkling eyes, "big guy," he mock punched Anakin's upper arm.

Anakin laughed again, giving up trying to understand the reason why that young man made him feel so alive and at peace with himself.

He watched Luke walk back inside the apartment with a growing feeling of anxiety. Somehow, he didn't want to see him go.

"Luke," he called from somewhere deep within.

Luke stopped in his tracks and turned about.

"Thank you," Anakin said, meaning it with every fiber of his being.

The youthful face brightened joyously.

"Thank *you*, my friend," Luke replied, making Anakin feel as if he had been blessed with the most precious gift in the universe.

Once alone, the young Jedi turned his attention to the city lights, seeking the soothing effect they used to have on him. The speeders flew back and forth, like small living creatures, moving at a lesser speed than during the day. His gaze shifted to the fountain, finding comfort in the sight and sound of the flowing water.

Luke had given him a lot to think about, no doubt about it. Clinging to the fading warmth of the young man who'd stood beside him, he allowed his thoughts to wander, using Luke's words as a beacon unconsciously.

'_Find your calm centre and let it lead you to the truth.'_

The truth. What was the Truth here? One truth was that the Republic and everything he believed in was falling apart like a house of cards. Naively, he'd thought that a good and fair system could survive anything, but now it was becoming evident that more and more cracks were appearing in that apparently impeccable façade.

It seemed impossible, almost anathema, that the Republic might be sheltering the seed of its own destruction. But when he thought about it... how could such a war be sustained for so many years, unless... unless someone was anticipating their movements, even manipulating them, waiting for the moment to take over?

Anakin's blood ran cold in his veins. For such a scheme to have any chance of success, the traitor had to lurk in the very core of the Republic, perhaps the Senate itself, as Luke had suggested. A Senator, or someone from their closest group of advisors. Someone with access _and_ power.

And the Jedi? Where did they fit in all this? Were they mere pawns or...? His blood seethed now at the thought of the act of treason they'd asked him to commit. Spying on the Chancellor! One of the very few who'd bothered to relate to him as a normal person, with problems, worries, dreams and hopes. Someone who listened to him and offered sincere advice. One of the few constants in his life, where nothing had ever stayed for long.

Padme! His angel!

Again, the memory of his nightmares was enough to annihilate all veneer of balance. He felt like he was standing on quicksands. Was there no solid ground for his tired soul to find some measure of security? He'd tried so hard to meditate and find answers in the Force! And all he could see was Padme's face contorted in pain, over and over, begging him to help her as her lifeforce slipped away.

Control had become an illusion. He felt he was being buffeted around, pulled in a dozen different directions; and he was starting to break.

'_Find your calm centre.'_

'_Your calm centre.'_

'_My calm centre are Padme and the baby,'_ Anakin replied to the voice in his head that surprisingly sounded like Luke's. _'How will I deal with a possible traitor in the Senate, a Jedi Council that's proving to be as conniving and manipulative as the most rotten politician, and the prospect of losing everything I love?'_

With a moan, he covered his face with his hands.

'_Force, help me! I'm losing myself! I'm losing it all!'_

'_Try to see with more than your eyes.'_

'_More than your eyes.'_

He was bone weary, drained inside. He would go mad if he continued like this.

Giving up, he walked back into the apartment, aching for the only thing that made him feel safe and anchored.

He slid into bed carefully, spooning up behind his sleeping wife and wrapping his long arms around her protruding belly, cradling it in his hands, craving the feel of his child as it kicked against his palms.

'_Grow healthy and strong, my little angel,'_ he sent mentally to the fetus. _'For I can't bear the thought of living without you.'_

Burying his face in Padme's thick, fragrant hair, Anakin fell asleep in sheer exhaustion.

* * *

The following morning, Anakin woke up with a splitting headache. Checking the time, he saw that it was just past breakfast time. That didn't really pose a problem, but as a person of fixed habits it made him feel uncomfortable.

With a small groan, he forced himself to get out of bed, remembering how Padme had whispered into his ear to sleep for as long as he needed as she stroked his hair just before she left. In the midst of his discomfort, he smiled at the memory.

He stopped by the bathroom for a quick wash and, barechested, headed for the kitchen.

He heard the muffled sounds of a conversation going on inside, and when he walked in, he found Luke washing his breakfast dishes, while Threepio argued that the dishwashing machine could do it. Artoo watched the scene making low raspberry noises that resembled a snigger all too much.

Anakin's eyes settled instantly on the young man. For once, Luke wasn't wearing his austere black attire but the navy blue pajama bottoms he had given him, folded up around the ankles, and his own cream-coloured sleeveless undershirt, that revealed strong and muscular arms and torso. His unusual, stark Jedi clothes had managed to hide a really impressive physique.

Luke turned his head when he felt him enter, and his face cheered up.

"Good morning," he greeted.

"Good morning," he greeted back, strangely moved by how young and... vulnerable his friend looked. With his blond hair all disheveled from sleep he looked like a teenager, especially when Anakin gazed into those crystal eyes that observed him so contentedly and almost with... gratitude?

Something in him went out to those eyes, to that gentle heart that seemed to speak to him in a language only he could understand.

"Did you sleep well?" Luke asked kindly.

Anakin made a grimace.

"I slept. Let's leave it at that."

Luke's eyes softened, and Anakin smiled poignantly as he walked up to the table and sat at it.

"Do you want juice, milk or anything?" Luke asked.

"No, no," Anakin shook his head, picking up a small Corellian apple from the bowl on the table. "I'm never hungry after waking up." He started peeling it lazily with a knife.

Luke didn't insist and dried his hands.

"Have you been up for long?" Anakin asked conversationally.

"Half an hour at most," Luke replied, coming to sit beside him.

There was a companionable silence while Anakin concentrated on peeling the piece of fruit and Luke watched him quietly.

The young man's attention was inevitably captured by his father's mechanical forearm. He examined it with a blending of grief and curiosity.

Feeling eyes on him, he looked up, meeting Anakin's bittersweet smile.

"I'm very sorry," he uttered from the bottom of his soul.

Anakin put down the apple and the knife.

"It's all right. It happened almost four years ago," he flexed his fingers. "It's a part of me now."

Luke nodded, flexing his own bionic hand surreptitiously under the table.

"I'm very sorry about yours too."

Luke's head snapped up with a start.

"What do you mean?"

In answer, Anakin reached down and took Luke's right hand in his own. With what could only be described as reverence, he took off the black glove, revealing the broken synthskin on the back of it and the micromachinery beneath.

"I saw it when we undressed you after you crashed," he admitted apologetically.

Luke closed his eyes.

"A blaster shot?"

"Yes," Luke nodded, looking away.

Anakin studied the artificial hand for a few seconds, and his insides twisted into a knot.

"How long since it happened?" he asked thickly.

"A few months," Luke replied matter-of-factly.

The straightforward answer didn't fool Anakin for a minute. Impelled by a feeling that wouldn't be denied, his hand moved of its own accord and began to caress the broken skin tenderly.

Luke turned his head when he felt his father caressing his hand. He looked down at their joined hands, rendered speechless by the depth and purity of Anakin's compassion.

"I'm so sorry," Anakin murmured mournfully, squeezing Luke's fingers with fierce intensity. Somehow, seeing a reflection of his own mutilation in Luke's flesh was more physically and emotionally painful than his own mutilation ever was.

There was something about that youth... and himself. Something that bound them together for all eternity.

"It's all right," Luke echoed Anakin's words. And it was. For the first time since that unspeakable moment on Bespin, Luke made peace with his amputation, his father, and himself. _'I forgive you, Father. I will always forgive you.'_

Swallowing the lump in their throats simultaneously, the two young men's eyes sought each other.

"This gives me hope, though," Anakin's light-hearted tone surprised them both.

"Hope?" Luke croaked.

"Yes." Anakin's eyes turned impish. "'Cause this means that in a few years into the future, I'll be able to get a prosthetic like yours," he winked at him.

Luke let out a short, helpless laugh, shaking his head. He acknowledged his father's need to tone down the level of emotion between them with a nod, letting him know it was all right.

Anakin nodded back, still holding Luke's hand between both of his, reluctant to let it go.

"So, what could we do?" he asked lively. "We've got the rest of the morning and the entire afternoon."

Luke shrugged.

"I usually meditate and talk to Threepio," he said. "Time flies when you feel at home."

There was a brief pause, while the two young men conveyed a universe of emotion through their eyes.

"Oh, don't be so modest," Anakin smiled slyly. "You also make certain that your hosts don't get ripped off."

"Excuse me?" Luke arched his eyebrows interrogatively.

"Threepio told us what you did yesterday, when the bricklayers tried to get away with putting the wrong blocks," there was sheer affection in those extraordinarily expressive eyes.

"Oh, that," Luke shrugged again nonchalantly. "I merely reminded the man in charge of the benefits of having a satisfied customer."

"I'm sure you did," Anakin fired a grin of pure mischief. "And tell me: did you remind him or did you _'remind'_ him?"

Luke bit back the smile that threatened to break out.

"Ahhh, I... _'reminded'_ him," he conceded at last, allowing the smile to spread across his face.

"That's my boy!" Anakin patted the back of Luke's hand triumphantly with a loud laugh before releasing it. He jumped to his feet. "I'm gonna change. After that, we could meditate together, spar or anything you want. What do you say?" he threw over his shoulder, on his way to the door.

"Fine by me," Luke replied, awestruck by the spring in his father's step. His enthusiasm was contagious. "Hey!" he called.

Anakin stopped by the door and turned around to look at him.

"Yes?"

Luke reached over and took the peeled apple on the plate.

"Don't forget your breakfast," he threw the apple at him.

Anakin caught it in mid-air, looked at it and then at Luke with a raised eyebrow. Next, he smiled broadly and left the kitchen giving the apple a big bite.

He was halfway through the living room when it struck him.

The headache was gone.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: From this point on, the story is NOT corrected. I lost my proofreader halfway through my writing and I've been unable to find another. Please, forgive the occasional typo and/or grammatical error; English isn't my first language. I would be eternally grateful if you pointed out to me the errors you manage to spot and sent me a PM, so I can correct them. Thank you for your understanding, and I apologize again for the inconvenience.

* * *

Luke came out to the veranda, this time dressed in one of his father's loose pants, again folded up around his ankles. Anakin awaited him, also dressed in dark loose pants and a sleeveless undershirt.

Threepio and Artoo stayed on the upper steps behind the couches, ready to watch the two Jedi's training session.

Anakin smiled at his sparring partner.

"Are you ready to learn a lesson or two?"

"It's the only way to get better," Luke replied, tightening his hand on his lightsaber.

Anakin's attention was diverted to his friend's hand.

"May I see it?" he said, pointing at Luke's saber.

"Of course," Luke replied, giving it to him.

Anakin examined the hilt in complete fascination.

"You did an incredible job. It's absolutely stunning!" he praised sincerely. "It's funny, though. It's so similar to my master's! Are you sure you never crossed Obi-Wan's path in the future?" he winked at Luke, giving him back his saber.

Luke shrugged.

"Maybe I have. But I didn't know him by that name." Luke hated lying to his father, even though technically, Obi-Wan was 'Old Ben' to him for almost nineteen years. "May I see yours?" he asked unnecessarily. He knew that lightsaber like the back of his hand, but he didn't want Anakin to suspect.

"Sure," Anakin promptly gave him his.

Luke smiled fondly at the familiar feel of that handle in his hand... again. For years, it'd felt like his palm had molded itself to the form of the lightsaber. The only physical testimony of his long lost father. His greatest treasure.

His eyes began to mist, and blinking rapidly to cover it, he gave the lightsaber back to Anakin with a smile on his face.

"It's a real masterpiece. Congratulations," the smile wavered for a heartbeat.

Anakin cocked his head, wondering why his heart seemed to break every time Luke got that eerie look in his eyes. His vulnerability to Luke's vulnerability was disturbing. It made him want to do _anything_ to erase that look from those innocent eyes, so full of cruelly acquired wisdom.

He cleared his throat, giving the young man a soft squeeze on the shoulder.

"And now that we completed the ritual of mutual admiration of each other's lightsabers," they laughed at Anakin's pompous phrasing, "let's get started. Are you ready?"

"As ready as I can be," Luke said, stepping back a little. "Do you mind if I take off my slippers? It'll be easier to move barefoot on this surface."

"Good idea," Anakin applauded. "I'll do the same." He kicked off his slippers and placed them by the nearest couch, beside Luke's.

They stood in front of each other, presenting their lightsabers and saluting one another formally. They ignited them in unison.

"Wow!" Anakin was impressed by the green blade. For some reason, he didn't expect it to be that colour.

"Thanks," Luke smiled, pleased that he'd managed to surprise his father. "Blue looks great too."

"Ready?" Anakin asked with a wink.

Luke nodded, bracing himself against his father's attack.

Anakin charged with some harmless moves first, that Luke deflected effortlessly. Then, Luke counterattacked with more difficult moves that Anakin blocked just as easily. Gradually, they raised the difficulty and complexity of their lightsaber technique, until they were displaying all the range of skills they possessed. Faster and faster, taking turns being the aggressor and the defender. They chased each other around the couches and all the levels of the veranda.

Suddenly, Anakin turned off his lightsaber.

"What is it?" Luke asked, stopping in his tracks, slightly breathless.

"May I give you a little suggestion?" Anakin said.

"Please do," Luke straightened up eagerly.

"When you're fighting a taller opponent, it helps if you're holding your lightsaber more diagonally above your head. You're holding it almost vertically, and all my blows are backfiring on you. You compensate quickly, but in a prolonged fight, you'll get tired sooner. That's why you're a bit out of breath now." He reached out and held Luke's wrist at the right angle. "There, that's better. Try to keep this stance at all times."

It dawned on Luke then that he was sparring with _Darth Vader_. His heart skipped a beat, not in fear, but at the fact that he hadn't even thought about it. This was the first time he was engaging someone after that fateful day. As it happened, he was fighting the same person, and yet he hadn't experienced a flashback, a single moment of apprehension. Nothing. He felt completely safe around Anakin. He knew in his blood that this young man would _never_ hurt him.

His eyes caressed the form of his father before him, as he also realized that Anakin had just given him the key to defeating him.

"Are you all right?" Anakin asked, seeing 'that look' in Luke's eyes again. What crossed his friend's mind to put that expression on his face?

"Yes," Luke swallowed heavily. "I appreciate it, especially because we both know I'll be mostly fighting opponents taller than me!"

Anakin laughed, loving Luke's self-deprecating sense of humour.

"You're just fine, trust me," he assured the young Jedi. "Shall we continue?"

"You bet," Luke smiled, looking forward to seeing if Anakin's advice made a difference in his fighting.

Steadily, their duel built up again in intensity, and Luke was delighted to see that his father was right. Anakin's blows didn't push him back as hardly as they had earlier, and he was as fresh as he'd been when the sparring session began. He felt invigorated and terribly alive. A jubilant smile flashed across his face.

"Good!" Anakin nodded excitedly, noting Luke's definite improvement. "Cover your right flank, now!"

Luke did, and in an upwards sweeping movement, he disarmed Anakin.

"Yes! Well done!" Anakin exclaimed, thrilled beyond words with Luke's prowess.

Luke thought his face was going to break, so hard he was smiling. This simple moment he had shared with his father encapsulated his every dream, that had just come true. He could see the pride in Anakin's eyes, and he knew this was the happiest moment of his life. He threw his lightsaber away and flung his arms around the man who'd sired him.

Anakin returned the hug wholeheartedly, shaking with laughter. He'd never felt such an exhilarating feeling of accomplishment, helping this young man and enabling him to protect himself more effectively. It felt so good to pass on to another the lessons he'd been taught. He slapped Luke's back a few times, before holding him fully again for a long time.

"You're an amazing teacher," Luke congratulated his father from his heart, sniffling a little.

"With such an amazing pupil, it's easy," Anakin congratulated him back. "You were great, Luke. It would be an honour to fight beside you."

Luke bit back the choked sob that wanted to escape.

"The honour would be mine," he said instead, crushing Anakin to him one last time before forcing himself to let go.

"What do you say to a shower, an early lunch and then we'll see?" Anakin proposed.

"I say that I can't wait, especially for the 'we'll see' part," Luke teased.

Anakin burst out laughing.

"Get moving, smarty!" he pushed Luke inside the apartment with mock exasperation.

* * *

It seemed like they both had something else in common. Sparring opened their appetite, so they healthily devoured the massive sandwiches they prepared, betting on who could make the taller one. Luke won in the end, but he had serious problems putting the five-decker sandwich in his mouth for a bite.

"You'll hibernate for years to digest that," Anakin commented with a smirk, as he waited for Luke to swallow his last mouthful.

"Flattery will get you anywhere," Luke countered, licking his fingers avidly.

"What do you feel like doing next?" Anakin asked, wiping his mouth with the napkin.

"Nothing too strenuous," Luke replied, patting his stomach pointedly.

"Ha! Maybe I should demand a rematch," Anakin wriggled his eyebrows naughtily.

"Maybe, but then you'd have an unfair advantage," Luke reminded him, wriggling his eyebrows back at his father.

"All right, nothing strenuous," Anakin acceded. "I can't think of anything more relaxing than some peaceful meditation."

"That would be just perfect," Luke agreed with a vigorous nod.

"Feel like going out?" Anakin invited.

"I like meditating outside," Luke confessed shyly.

"What are we waiting for, then?" Anakin's smile blossomed.

The two young men came out to the veranda and sat down cross-legged on the floor before the fountain, turning to face each other. They relaxed their bodies with long and deep intakes of breath, until they found their own inner rhythm.

Their eyes met and they nodded at each other.

"May the Force be with you," Anakin bowed his head to Luke respectfully.

"May the Force be with you," Luke returned the bow courteously.

With a parting smile, they closed their eyes and allowed their thoughts to float away.

Anakin soon discovered that he had problems detaching himself from Luke's strong Force-presence. Something pulled him inexorably to that young man. The more he tried the more he was drawn towards that shining light that offered a soul-deep comfort like only his mother and Padme had ever given him. It was good, it was warm, it was... fated. Surrendering, he just let go.

Suddenly, he found himself in a bleak, grey and dreary place. A bottomless circular shaft with a myriad bright little windows. Wind gushed in a very violent manner, in perfect counterpoint to the panic that began to rise in his chest.

He jumped when a massive black form attacked him from nowhere. He raised his lightsaber defensively, but the most he could manage was protect himself from being cut to pieces. Naked terror poured out of him. He was ruthlessly forced to retreat, further and further, while that merciless beast advanced relentlessly, showing him with every strike of his red blade that he was no match for such power and intent. Finally, the masked monster pushed him to the floor and aimed the tip of his lightsaber at his face.

In a flash of insight, Anakin understood that the vision had nothing to do with him, but Luke. He was seeing the events that had led to his friend's mutilation through Luke's eyes.

He had no time to wonder who that Sith Lord could be, or what kind of future the young man lived in, because Luke fend off his attacker and quickly stood up, fighting bravely, even if he had no chance to win the confrontation.

Anakin began to feel sick. Sick with fear and foreboding. He wasn't witnessing this, he was _living it_, experiencing the same horror that consumed Luke's soul. As real and brutal as he'd _never_ imagined.

He allowed himself a fleeting moment of triumph when his friend broke through the Sith Lord's defenses and hit him on the shoulder. But the small victory was short-lived, as it only fueled the Dark one's anger. An instant later, Luke was hanging precariously over the chasm, giving the monster all the edge he needed. Luke's hand was severed at the wrist with horrific, practical precision.

'_NOOOOOO!'_ Anakin's heart screamed in agony. His spirit shrank from that inconceivable scene. He'd seen much worse in the war, but for a reason he couldn't explain, this single event was beyond all horrors he could picture. He cried, bleeding inside for Luke's physical and emotional pain. The trauma of what had just happened would stay with his young friend for as long as he lived, he knew that all too well.

He watched Luke crawl away from the Sith Lord like a wounded animal, holding on to the gantry, suspended from the abyss by his only remaining, trembling hand.

As if on cue, the roaring wind calmed, and for the first time since the vision started, Anakin heard their exchange, that shocked him to the core.

'_There is no escape. Don't make me destroy you. Luke, you have not yet realized your importance. You've only begun to discover your power. Join me, and I will complete your training. With our combined strength we can end this destructive conflict, and bring order to the galaxy.'_

'_I'll never join you!'_

'_If you only knew the power of the Dark Side. Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father.'_

'_He told me enough. He told me *you* killed him!'_

* * *

On his part, Luke had experienced the same difficulties as his father, trying to detach himself from Anakin's innate protective aura, that made him want to cuddle up to it and never let go. The harder he tried to focus on anything else the more irresistibly he was drawn towards the young man's strong charisma and personality. Yielding to the will of the Force, he let it sweep him away.

Seconds later, he was standing on a plateau out of a hellish nightmare. A volcanic landscape, with lava explosions stretching as far as the eye could see. Glowing rivers snaked around the scorched surface, and stinking sulphur fumes rose into the suffocating atmosphere, clouding the sun and choking every illusion of hope along with them.

Standing in the middle of a landing platform, his father prowled around menacingly, like a deranged beast about to become unleashed, ignoring the body of his pregnant wife lying unconscious on the floor.

Before him, horrified but unfaltering, a younger version of the man who'd been his first mentor attempted a last effort to reason with the demon who already was beyond any dream of salvation.

'_You have allowed this Dark Lord to twist your mind, until now you have become the very thing you swore to destroy.'_

'_Don't lecture me, Obi-Wan. I see through the lies of the Jedi. I do not fear the Dark Side as you do. I have brought peace, freedom, justice and security to my new Empire.'_

'_Your new Empire?!'_

'_Don't make me kill you.'_

'_Anakin, my allegiance is to the Republic, to Democracy!'_

'_If you're not with me, then you're my enemy.'_

'_Only a Sith deals in absolutes. I will do what I must.'_

'_You will try.'_

What followed was the most vicious, animalistic battle his petrified eyes had ever seen. Not even his own battle against Darth Vader had prepared him for the savage exchange of killing blow after killing blow between two men who had been like brothers once.

Luke wanted to close his eyes against the sickening vision, but he couldn't. He was trapped in it, living it with an inconsolable feeling of finality, of a self-fulfilling prophecy that nothing and no one could prevent from happening.

But the absolute worst was *knowing* that these events were days... no, _hours_ away from becoming a reality.

How could it be? In the name of everything holy and sacred in the universe... _how_?!

'_I have failed you, Anakin. I have failed you.'_

'_I should have known the Jedi were plotting to take over.'_

'_Anakin, Chancellor Palpatine is evil!'_

'_From my point of view the Jedi are evil!'_

'_Then you are lost!'_

'_This is the end for you, my master.'_

Luke thought his heart was fading away in his chest with disbelief and shock. He wanted to die before seeing this. Please, Force, no! Don't let it happen!

'_It's over, Anakin! I have the high ground!'_

'_You underestimate my power.'_

'_Don't try it.'_

Luke's soul screamed itself hoarse at the horrendous scene that followed. Obi-Wan's blade cut through his father's limbs while he completed his somersault, and what was left of his body landed and rolled down a cliff, to the very edge of a lava river. The Jedi master looked down at his pupil, eyes glazed with tears. Tears of betrayal, pain, and love too.

'_You were the Chosen One! It was said that you would destroy the Sith not join them! Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in Darkness!'_

'_**I hate you!'**_

'_You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you.'_

And then his father's body burst into flame, that quickly devoured the man who had been a compassionate and caring soul once, a good husband and friend, and could have been much more. Oh, so much more!

As Obi-Wan walked away, Luke witnessed in hopeless despair how Darth Vader was born. There, in the cauldron of Darkness that had annihilated his family and an entire galaxy for decades to come.

The sound that left his throat wasn't a shout nor a whimper. It was both and neither. Small and deafening at the same time, and enough to break them both out of their respective visions.

Anakin opened his eyes with a start, only to find himself face to face with an even more appalling vision than the one he'd just been prematurely woken up from.

Luke was struggling to stand, but could only stagger to his feet and stumble his way to the couch. His ashen, contorted face was bathed in tears, and he wrapped his arms around his middle, making awful retching sounds.

Anakin had never felt so much horror, helplessness and suffering coming out of a person. It seemed impossible that anyone could stand it, and not just... _die_. His heart, his soul, everything he was, went out to that indescribable pain that he knew he couldn't even begin to soothe. He bolted forward and held Luke in his arms, just when he was falling to his knees before reaching the sofa. He dragged him the rest of the way and settled him back against the cushions, not letting go for a second. Instinctively, Luke grabbed his forearm with both hands and curled up into himself, almost into a foetal ball, facing away from him.

No words could help, he knew. And yet, gentle, soft, cooing sounds he didn't know where they came from slipped from Anakin's lips as he rocked the brutally shaking body back and forth, running his fingers through the damp hair, wishing he could give his life to spare this young man from such a pitiless destiny.

"It hurts. It hurts..." Luke sobbed out, so in shock that he didn't know where he was, when, or with whom for that matter. "Oh, Force, it hurts! Help me. Help me! Please, somebody help me!" he buried his face in the cushions, trying to drown the foul smell of charred, burned flesh that was forever imprinted in his mind.

Anakin gave up words, realizing that the only way to reach Luke and pull him out of the nightmarish place he was visiting was through touch. He brought the young Jedi close, hugging him clumsily, given the awkward position they were in. He renewed his rocking motions, stroking through the blond hair with such fierce tenderness that it astonished him.

"I can't. I can't take it! Please, don't let it happen. Don't let it happen again! Oh, please, no. No!"

Tears ran unheeded down Anakin's cheeks. It was insane! This young man's pain was tearing him apart inside. He'd always been a very empathetic person, but this... This hurt infinitely worse than if it was happening to him. Luke's pain was his. It was as if their souls were intertwined, as if they had become entangled in some supernatural way and couldn't be separated anymore.

"I'm here, Luke," he rasped out all at once. "You're not alone in this. I am with you. I understand. Believe me, I do. Hold on to me. It will pass. It always does. I won't leave you, little one. Just hold on to me. Shhhh..."

'_What am I saying?'_ he wondered. It was as if a part of him that he never knew that existed, or didn't exist _yet_, came to life only in Luke's presence. For Luke and only him.

One minute, one hour, or quite possibly one lifetime passed until Luke's desperate crying began to subside. Anakin's protective embrace never eased up. Oddly, it was when the young Jedi's sobbing faded that Anakin's embrace tightened even more. He'd found the strangest peace in that unlikely sharing, a unique feeling of belonging, different from any other he'd ever known, and it crushed him to let it go.

Mentally and emotionally devastated, Luke was feeding on his father's touch on a totally organic level. He'd forgotten completely that it was Anakin Skywalker who hugged him. He just felt the warmth, the caring, the great concern and the passionate giving, and he clung to them for dear life, drawing strength and comfort from the physical contact like a starved man.

Little by little, he regained control of himself, becoming aware of his surroundings. His agitated, heaving respiration slowly returned to normal, and then he noticed the rhythmic movement of the strong, gentle hand sliding through his hair and down his back in circles, transmitting a sense of calm so overwhelming that he just wished to die there, in his father's arms, and make the pain stop for good.

He breathed out loud, swallowing the dryness in his mouth. He dropped his head tiredly, resting it on Anakin's forearm, needing that one final touch to face the reality around him again. Then, he made the feeblest, half-hearted attempt to move away from his father's embrace.

"Are you sure?" Anakin asked thickly.

The reluctance in his father's voice brought a wistful smile to Luke's lips.

"No. But you'll have to let me go at some point," he replied wearily.

"I don't want to. I feel your pain," Anakin was on the verge of tears again.

"Please?" Luke requested in the smallest whisper. It would be so easy to lose himself in that sublime, beautiful cocoon of fatherly love... _every thing_ he'd always wanted. But it was a luxury he couldn't afford, considering...

Anakin couldn't refuse that open pleading, that pure heart that seemed to beat alongside his own. His arms began to widen, protesting every minute space that was created between them. And when Luke moved away from him and tried to stand, an ice-cold breeze blew past the two men, making them shiver.

Luke managed to stay on his feet, and walked a few unsteady steps. He clenched his fists at his sides, the superhuman effort and what it was costing him plain to see. Anakin rose as well and followed him, not daring to touch him but still guarding him. He needed it. He was _meant_ to protect this man!

_Why?!_

"And they still call it a 'gift'?" Luke's broken voice oozed sarcasm.

Anakin's eyes dropped closed. His head began to nod.

"It is a gift when you can fix the situation or make it better. Otherwise, it's a curse. Pure and simple."

"I hate this feeling. I hate feeling so helpless!" Luke's cry of anger and hopelessness startled them both.

"No, you don't," Anakin's hand squeezed the tense shoulder hard. "You resent it, you despair at it, but you don't hate. Somehow, you're beyond that emotion," he sighed despondently. "And I envy you for it."

Luke turned his head and met his father's gaze. Naked torment filled the terribly open eyes.

"I wish you could teach me to master it," sadness impregnated every word.

Luke's hand covered his father's on his shoulder in heartfelt, resigned apology.

"I'm not a master. I wouldn't know the first..."

"Oh, yes, you are!" Anakin's vehemence was mesmerizing. "Just by listening! Just by... by being there, calming the dormant beast in my chest. When I look at you, I... I feel..." he hissed in frustration and raised his eyes skywards, fighting to verbalize emotions that didn't even have a name. "I feel like you're the promise of a better tomorrow. The living promise that there will _be_ a future for us all. I... I..." he put his other hand on Luke's other shoulder and turned him fully to him. "_I_ _need you_." His eyes roamed Luke's features desperately, feeling he would go mad if he didn't unravel the mystery around this young man _now_. "Why? Why do I need you so?"

Luke's poignant smile slashed through Anakin's soul. The young Jedi bit his lip and shook his head at him miserably.

"It's not your fault, but mine," Anakin quickly reassured him. "I feel that I _should_ know you. If I did, everything would finally make sense. And still... I'm happy just knowing that you _exist_. It's like... like you're the answer to this... nightmare I'm living in." Hissing again, his face twisted in a grimace of harrowing agony. All hope, all semblance of composure seemed to be ripped from him. He released Luke and turned away with a strangled sob.

"What? What is it?" Luke pressed, following his father earnestly, sensing that this was _it_. The demon that would tip the balance in favour of the Dark.

"Padme! Our baby!" Anakin wailed brokenly.

"What about them?" Luke's heart felt about to beat out of his breast.

"I'm going to lose them! I'm going to lose them and there's nothing I can do about it!" the powerful Jedi collapsed to his knees in gut-wrenching grief. All the bottled-up stress, fear and anguish exploded from him like a breaking dam. At that moment, he looked as forsaken and vulnerable as a child.

Luke kneeled down beside his father and held his arms in fervent support.

"Why do you say that? Why would you lose them?"

"Padme will die in childbirth! Oh, Force, I'm going to lose it all!" Anakin covered his face with his hands, trying to block out the horror he could see looming over his loved ones.

Luke was shocked speechless. All colour drained from his face as the final piece of the puzzle fell into place.

"I saw it happen. I dreamed it! Just like I dreamed about my mother three years ago. I was too late to save her, but now... now I'm just as powerless!" Anakin brought his hands down, turning them into fists, fighting a faceless enemy that couldn't be defeated. "I seem to be destined to lose all the people I love. Why? WHY?" he turned his head to Luke, and the young man saw straight into his father's soul. Bare, raw, exposed to its deepest recesses. And he saw his father reaching out to _him_ for an answer. The words that would make it all better, that would make the nightmare go away. "Why?" he asked weakly, despairingly; his swimming eyes looking straight into _his_ soul.

Luke tried to say something, but his vocal cords, his thought processes were all but paralysed. He could only look back into Anakin's eyes, conveying all the consternation that his father's revelation had caused, and submerging himself in that tormented spirit that begged for the only comfort it had ever needed.

Love. A family. And the balance and focus they provided.

It was in that split second, staring into his father's eyes, that Luke knew, and understood, what made Anakin Skywalker tick. The source of all his strength, that was also his greatest weakness. Beyond his love for those who kept him sane and grounded, lay the abyss. Total and absolute. His mother first, and now Padme and their unborn children _were_ his sanity. Anakin's essence, his very being was rooted in the emotional ties he'd formed in his lifetime. His concept of the Force was wrapped up in the steadfast love that bound him to the people he cared about.

'_That was always my greatest fear. To be alone.'_

Take away everything that Anakin Skywalker loved, and you had a broken shell of a man. A shattered and crippled soul to whom nothing mattered anymore, with nothing left except a ravenous need to be filled with _anything_ that made the unbearable emptiness go away.

_Force. Oh, Force!_

One of his hands moved from his father's arm and cupped the hot, almost feverish cheek.

"Anakin, I..." his voice sounded like sandpaper.

"Excuse me, master."

Threepio's intrusion felt like a kick in the guts. The two young men flinched, torn away from a precious, fragile moment in time where everything was shared and understood. Composing themselves with a heroic effort, they turned their heads to the golden droid, presenting the same quiet, melancholic expression on their faces.

"Lady Padme just arrived," Threepio announced.

Anakin's poise changed in seconds. He straightened up and rose to his feet with steely grace.

"We'll be right there, Threepio. Thank you," he said.

With his eyes fixed on the disappearing droid, Anakin spoke to the Jedi beside him.

"Please, don't comment any of this with her. It is _my_ responsibility and I will take care of it. It's my family."

Luke remained frozen on the floor, staring blankly into the distance, feeling his blood run cold. When Anakin entered the apartment and the warmth of his father's presence next to him dissipated, he brought one trembling hand to his chest, trying to slow his wildly beating heart.

"Force help me. May the Force help us all," he raised his murmured plea to the heavens.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	6. Chapter 6

Padme couldn't take her eyes off her husband and their young guest. She didn't need the Force to know that something was going on. They were strangely morose, introspective. They weren't at odds with each other; in fact, it was quite the opposite. They seemed so attuned to one another that the look in their eyes, the expression on their faces was a mirror of each other.

'_So alike. So similar. They look like brothers!'_ she thought for the umpteenth time.

She could only guess at what had happened today, but she did know that something resonated profoundly between them. A unity, a harmony of the heart and the soul that was uncanny to watch. And they were totally unaware of it. There they were, lost in a world of their own, and yet it felt like an umbilical cord stretched between them, keeping them together despite everything. Or maybe because of it.

Her hand went instinctively to her belly, and she caressed it. For some reason, the baby always became restless in Luke's presence. Maybe it was due to the fact that the young Jedi didn't belong in their time, and somehow the fetus could feel it and reacted to it. It wasn't Anakin Skywalker's child for nothing.

Just then, Luke's eyes met hers and the most heartbreaking, sorrowful smile crossed his lips. Her heart skipped a beat in her chest as she experienced the most disconcerting, almost disturbing feeling of deja vu.

'_I know this young man. I *should* know him!'_ her mind cried out. _'And I'm a fool, an idiot for not recognizing him! WHY?! This is insane!'_

As if in answer, a strong hand held hers. She'd know that touch everywhere. Anywhere. In life and in death. She turned her head to those fathomless eyes, and in them she saw the same confusion, the same frustration of _feeling_, but _not knowing_.

After dinner, they sat in the living room and enjoyed a light-hearted conversation, but Padme could tell that neither Anakin nor Luke's spirits were there. Not fully. Their minds were elsewhere. She shook her head and looked down. She had seen Anakin in that state once or twice before, but seeing Luke like that opened her eyes again to what being a Jedi meant and entailed. They could sense and feel things beyond her reach, beyond her comprehension. That made them different from everybody else, and more vulnerable in a way.

She'd encouraged her husband to talk to Obi-Wan about the things he couldn't discuss with her for her sheer lack of understanding of the matter, but Anakin refused most of the time. She knew it wasn't their secret that held Anakin back. Even among the Jedi, Anakin was different. And whatever he was looking for, whatever he needed, it was beyond her abilities and his fellow Jedi's to provide.

The baby kicked her stomach hard, and taking a deep breath, she brought her hand down again and caresed it for a moment.

'_I know you'll give your father everything he needs. He's so out of his depth, so alone with his thoughts and fears...'_ she spoke mentally to her child. _'He'll finally have someone to talk to. The one who will truly understand him, like...'_

Her eyes turned to Luke automatically, and her heart skipped another beat.

'_...Like him,'_ some part of her completed the thought.

And she knew what she had to do.

Rising to her feet slowly, she put her empty glass on the oval table in front of them. Luke and Anakin quickly followed suit.

"Is everything all right?" Anakin stood in front of her protectively. She could feel his anxiety like a dark undertone of foreboding.

"Yes," she smiled. "But I think I'm going to lie down for a little while."

"Then..."

Padme placed her fingertips over his lips, silencing him. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek lovingly, hiding her face from Luke's shy eyes, that were already looking away respectfully, giving them the privacy their exchange was crying out.

"Talk to him," she whispered into his ear. "He _can_ help you," she looked up at him and smiled again softly.

Something moved behind Anakin's eyes, and nodding in acceptance, he took her face in his hands and kissed her intensely.

"I love you," he breathed against her lips, kissing them again.

When they separated, Anakin settled one hand on her swollen belly passionately.

"I love you both," he spoke to his child, in words _and_ thought.

Luke turned about, closing his eyes and biting his lips.

'_I know, Father. I know!'_ he answered with all his heart.

He felt his mother walking up to him and he turned to face her, forcing a tremulous smile.

She reached out her hand to him, and taking it in his reverently, he bowed his head and kissed the back of it.

"Have a quiet rest," he said wistfully, tipping his head to one side.

She nodded, giving him a searching look. Overflowing with affection all of a sudden, she bent forward impulsively and kissed his cheek.

Luke blinked back tears, praying for his mother not to notice.

The two young men watched her go, and then Luke walked over to the wall-wide window, fixing his gaze on the hundreds of speeders fluttering about in perfect lines like Ylesian dragonflies.

Anakin joined him.

"She's not too subtle sometimes," he smiled bashfully, staring out as well.

"Especially for a Senator," Luke commented fondly.

Anakin chuckled to himself, remembering one or two instances of his wife's less-than-senatorial behaviour while dealing with a _situation_.

"Still, I bet that's one of the reasons why you love her," Luke dared to say, knowing he was right.

Anakin remained silent for a few seconds.

"She's everything to me. _Everything_."

Luke's eyes dropped closed. It hurt. Oh, Force, it hurt!

He held back a shudder when a warm hand rested on his shoulder.

"I thank the Force for having you here. You have no idea how much I've yearned for... a friend. Another Force-sensitive I could talk to about all the doubts, and questions, and secrets I could never share with anyone. Not even my own master." Anakin sighed in resignation. "If only for a few days – when I needed it most – I have been granted that wish. It'll give me the strength I need to do... what must be done."

Luke's blood froze with dread.

"And what does that mean, exactly?" he asked in a deceptively neutral tone of voice.

"Whatever's necessary," was the chilling answer. "I will _not_ lose her."

The most terrifying notion dawned on Luke at that. Could his presence be the catalyst for his father's turn? The time paradoxes and their implications would be too mind-boggling to even begin to contemplate them. He had tried so hard to be careful! He'd meditated over and over, and he'd never received the barest hint that such could be the case.

But he had no way to know for sure.

He was convinced that he had been thrown back in time for a reason, a _good_ reason, that the Force would reveal in its own good time. Until then, what was the right thing to do?

"Let me tell you something," the spontaneous words took him by surprise, but he didn't stop to question them. "A few months ago, I had a vision that my three best friends had been... captured," he ground his teeth at the ugly memory and the chain of events it had unleashed. "They were tortured and I could feel their pain. I had to go to them." He looked down in shame and took one step forward, disengaging Anakin's hand from his shoulder. "My master advised me to complete my training first, but I wouldn't listen. I feared they would die, and I couldn't just do nothing. I _had_ to help them!" he turned his head to Anakin, needing some sort of forgiveness, of understanding of his impatience and recklesness that so much had cost him.

And Anakin's eyes offered them in spades, with an emphatic nod.

"So, I abandoned my training and rushed to their side. And do know know what happened?" his eyes filled with tears of self-disgust. "They managed to escape on their own. They even had to come back and rescue _me_. My actions didn't change anything. I lost my hand, I almost lost myself and my sanity, and I accomplished _nothing_." He looked away and wiped the tears away angrily.

"Are you saying that I have to sit back and do nothing to save Padme?" There was a mixture of outrage and trepidation in Anakin's voice.

Luke turned around and gave Anakin the saddest look the young Jedi had ever seen.

"All I'm saying is that we must learn to control our passions, because it's impossible to think coherently when they have us in their grip. Rushing to help my friends was the biggest mistake I ever made, and I paid for it." His expression hardened unexpectedly. "But believe me, it could have been much worse."

The dark look in the beautiful blue eyes made Anakin start back, as the image of the masked Sith Lord who had maimed Luke appeared in his mind's eye.

'_Join me and I will complete your training.'_

Anakin's eyes bulged when he realized the danger that Luke had faced that day. That monster had his friend's life in his hands, literally. Not only his life, but his soul as well.

No. It was impossible! No matter how great the temptation was, Luke would never turn! He had said earlier that his young friend was beyond the darkest nuances of Human emotion, and he still believed it firmly.

Luke and he were so alike in so many things... but this was one aspect of their personalities where they were completely different. It was hard to admit, but Luke was intrinsically purer and better than he was. Even hanging on the edge of the abyss, Luke would find the strength and the courage to step back and do the right thing.

Could he say the same?

Thoroughly disheartened, he walked away and leaned his body against the window frame.

"What's the point of our visions, then?" he asked in utter dejection.

Luke nodded bitterly. That was the question he'd been asking himself all this time.

"Maybe..." his eyes wandered all around, "...maybe they act as a reminder that despite our abilities and powers, we're no better than the others. Being strong in the Force gives us an advantage, but it doesn't make us all-powerful. We're still imperfect and fallible, and we must learn to use our gifts wisely, for the responsibility we bear is greater."

Anakin turned to him brusquely.

"In that case, our visions _do_ have a purpose! We must find that wisdom within ourselves and..."

"Excuse me," the urgency in Padme's voice put an abrupt stop to their conversation.

"What is it?" Anakin asked earnestly, approaching his wife in long strides.

"I just received a transmission from the Chancellor. He's been looking for you," her eyes were eager. "He wants to meet you immediately."

Luke broke into a cold sweat. The pestilent shadow he had managed to keep at bay broke through his defences, _so_ determined to have his father, to complete the seduction that had been years in the making and was so close now to coming to fruition. His stomach churned, and he sat down on the couch as calmly as he could, fighting back the rising wave of nausea.

Oblivious to it, Anakin went into action.

"Where?"

"He's at the Galaxies Opera House, attending a performance," Padme said. "He's waiting for you at his private box."

Anakin's excitement was apparent.

"It must be important indeed if he wants to see me at this late hour. Let's hope it's good news, for a change," he turned his head to Luke. "Please, take care of her. I'll be back as soon as I can." And with a quick kiss to Padme's forehead, he left at a run.

Padme stared after her husband, worrying at her lips, deep in thought. Sighing softly, she turned to their gentle guest, noticing instantly the unhealthy pallor on his face and his hunched posture on the couch.

"Luke!" she exclaimed, hurrying to sit beside him. She put her hand on his cheek, and jumped when she felt the cold, clammy skin. "What's wrong? Are you ill?"

Pulling himself together, Luke raised his eyes to his mother's with a forlorn smile. He lifted a slightly trembling hand and held hers.

"I think I'm the one who needs to lie down for a little while now," he whispered to her with an ironically arched eyebrow.

Padme stood up.

"I'll go with you," she offered resolutely.

"Please don't," Luke asked. "I can manage."

Padme gazed down at him, exasperation written all over her features.

"Look, I don't care about changing history, altering the space-time continuum, and all that hokum. I'm going to call a doctor," she insisted. "You've been getting sick on and off since you got here and..." she trailed off, realizing what her words implied.

Luke nodded to her knowingly, pressing her false assumption home.

"There's nothing any doctor can do," he told her softly. "It's my being here that's causing this," he shook his head, unable to get over the fact that in a way, his words were absolutely true. He met her eyes apologetically. "I'm sorry I can't take care of you like he asked me..."

"Don't be silly. I'm pregnant, not ill," Padme squeezed the cold fingers comfortingly. "But if you don't get better in a few minutes, you _must_ let me know. All right?"

"All right," Luke agreed, feeling his chest twist into a knot. Force, he couldn't stand this. He couldn't!

Standing up with a supreme effort, Luke released the small hand that vibrated with such inner strength and solicitousness.

'_Oh, Mother! What would I give to feel your touch once more!'_

Focusing entirely on the short journey to the guest room, he all but collapsed on the bed. He kicked off his slippers and lay onto his side facing away from the door, burying his face in the pillow, grateful for the dark.

It was so close! Preying on him, on her, on the Republic's last hours, so certain of himself and his victory... The shroud of Darkness thickened and suffocated everything. He could feel it sucking out his lifeforce drop by drop.

He had to leave here before it consumed him completely. What had begun as an excuse turned out to be deathly accurate. His very life was in danger.

There was nothing else he could do. He'd learned everything he needed to know. It was time for him to return home and fulfil his Destiny. His unwavering resolve to save his father had doubled after getting to know Anakin Skywalker, the man. Flawed and imperfect, yes, but also with an immeasurable capacity for love and compassion.

He would rekindle the love surviving in his father's heart. He would honour the promise he had made to Ben before leaving Dagobah. He would _never_ give up on this man's soul.

The swooshing sound of the door opening brought him out of his musings. Delicate footsteps neared the bed.

_Mother!_

"How're you feeling?" Padme asked tenderly, placing the back of her hand on his cheek.

"I'm better."

"The cold sweat's gone, thank heavens," Padme nodded to herself, vastly relieved. She reached down, grabbed the bedspread at the foot of the bed and covered Luke with it. "If you feel sick again, just call me." She slid her fingers through his hair maternally.

"You should rest also," Luke reminded her, swallowing the hard lump in his throat.

"Who's taking care of who here?" Padme chided him fondly. There was no explanation for the emotions Luke elicited in her. Such fierce feelings of protection! "Sleep now. Everything will be better in the morning," she reassured him as if he were a small child.

"Good night," Luke whispered, drinking from the fading sensation on his scalp, where his mother had caressed him. "Thank you." A solitary tear rolled down his face and fell on the pillow.

"Good night, Luke," Padme whispered back. And with a final caress to his forehead, she left as quietly as she entered.

The young Jedi brought his fisted hand to his mouth and bit on it, cursing his helplessness. With tears pouring from his eyes in rivulets, he drifted off.

* * *

'_Anakin, you know I'm not able to rely on the Jedi Council. If they haven't included you in their plot, they soon will.'_

'_I'm not sure I understand.'_

'_You must sense what I have come to suspect. The Jedi Council want control of the Republic. They're planning to betray me.'_

'_I don't think..."_

'_Anakin, search your feelings. You *know*, don't you?'_

'_I know they don't trust you.'_

'_Or the Senate, or the Republic, or Democracy for that matter.'_

'_I have to admit, my trust in them has been shaken.'_

'_Why? They asked you to do something that made you feel dishonest, didn't they? They asked you to spy on me, didn't they?'_

'_I don't, ah... I don't know what to say.'_

'_Remember back to your early teachings. All who gain power are afraid to lose it, even the Jedi.'_

'_The Jedi use their power for good.'_

'_Good is a point of view, Anakin. The Sith and the Jedi are similar in almost every way. Including their quest for greater power.'_

'_The Sith rely on their passion for their strength. They think inwards, only about themselves.'_

'_And the Jedi don't?'_

'_The Jedi are selfless, they only care about others.'_

'_Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?'_

'_No.'_

'_I thought not. It's not a story the Jedi would tell you. It's a Sith legend. Darth Plagueis was a Dark Lord of the Sith. So powerful and so Wise he could use the Force to influence the midichlorians to create life. He had such a knowledge of the Dark Side he could even keep the ones he cared about from dying.'_

* * *

"**NO!"**

Luke jumped out of bed, sick and trembling like never before. He began to pace the room aimlessly, frenetically, back and forth, twisting his hands, almost hyperventilating. Finally, he stopped and leaned his head on the wall, hitting his forehead against it repeatedly. Time and time again.

The monster! The conniving, treacherous, deceitful monster!

How did he know? How did he find out?

Those questions didn't seem to matter any longer. The only thing that mattered was the precise, faultless trap Palpatine had set up for his father. He had discovered and nurtured Anakin's weak spots all these years, and now he would ripe what he had patiently, painstakingly sowed.

He had made certain that his father would suspect everyone in the Jedi Council, even Obi-Wan. He had effectively burned Anakin's bridges so he had no one he could trust. He had used to his advantage the Council's own shady manoeuvres to bypass his authority to make him look like the cornered, blameless party.

And now he had delivered the final blow that would seal his father's destiny. He had presented the Dark Side as Anakin's only hope to save his beloved wife.

It couldn't be. It was a plan too perfect in its simplicity, the way the Chancellor had played them all like clueless pieces on a board that never stood a chance.

Shakingly feeling his way in the dark, Luke sought the comfort of a wider space. The door opened before him and he ventured out into the corridor that led to the living room.

He didn't feel any better there. The Darkness encompassed it all. He couldn't stop trembling and shivering. An unnatural fear penetrated into his very bones.

Tired to the marrow, he stopped in front of the massive windows that overlooked the planet-city whose horizon seemed to stretch on to eternity.

It wasn't enough. He needed more space to move, to walk, to _breathe_. He took one little step forward and the crystal slid open, as if inviting him into the semicircular balcony. He walked out and looked around, taking in the busy life of that world, even at night.

He felt so small, so insignificant! Here he was, a time-traveller, a humble Jedi learner who had accomplished a feat unheard of, at least that he knew of, and he could only watch and despair at what he was witnessing.

No hope at all. No hope whatsoever for his father, for his mother, and for the millions who would die in the following decades. The Force offered no solace, no answers, not even the tiniest sign of what he should _not _do.

"Oh, you're still up!"

Luke stiffened in shock. His father's return had gone totally unnoticed by him! So distraught he was that his connection with the Force had actually _weakened_. It was scary to realize to what point fear could numb his senses and make him lose touch with the reality around him.

And in a sudden moment of inspiration, he understood that such was the state of mind his father lived in since he had first dreamed of Padme dying in childbirth. Unknowingly, he was disconnecting himself from his deeper feelings and perceptions, making it even easier for Palpatine to trick him.

Anakin walked up beside him, relaxing immediately in Luke's presence.

"I have good news."

"Really?" Luke asked ironically.

"Yes. Who would have thought, huh?" Anakin smiled at Luke's scepticism. "A clone intelligence unit have discovered the location of General Grievous in the Utapau system. We just took a giant step closer to putting an end to this war."

'_Another pawn Palpatine is sacrificing in order to get the biggest prize of all,'_ Luke thought resignedly.

"Will you take up the assignment?" he asked instead.

"The Chancellor thinks I'm the best choice for the job, and I would be delighted to put that monster out of commission personally," Anakin said. "But I don't think the Council will approve. They'll probably send Obi-Wan. And just this once, I agree with them. I much rather stay here until..." he took a deep breath and sighed loudly.

Luke's back went rigid and he withdrew into himself instinctively. He didn't mean to do it, but he couldn't help it.

Anakin turned his head, feeling Luke's retreat. From him.

"What is it?" he asked worriedly. Luke's withdrawal hurt.

Luke half-turned to him.

"May I ask you a question? A... painful one?" his voice sounded so mournful.

"Yes," Anakin nodded.

"Your vision of M-Padme..." Luke began clumsily, "...do you actually _see_ her die?"

A profound shudder passed through Anakin's body at the verbalization of his worst nightmare. He closed his eyes at the images that assaulted him.

"I see her crying out in pain. She begs me to help her, and I can feel her lifeforce slipping away," he shook his head sharply, wanting to get rid of the flashes that wouldn't stop haunting him night and day.

Luke nodded to himself.

"Why?" Anakin asked with a raspy voice.

"I..." Luke sighed softly. "I just remembered how it was with my vision."

"You felt your friends' pain and thought they would die. But they didn't," Anakin said.

Luke nodded.

There was a single instant of doubt in Anakin's mind.

"But the fact that such was the case in your vision doesn't mean it's the same with mine," he argued. "I must know for sure, or do everything in my power to prevent it from happening."

Luke's eyes dropped closed. Fighting a person's Fate was like trying to stop the tides. Futile. It didn't matter if his mother was meant to die in childbirth or not. It was Anakin's fear and his acting upon that fear that would set the seal on everyone's destinies.

'_Is it possible to learn this power?'_

'_Not from a Jedi.'_

"And I just might have found a way. An... alternate one."

Even his father's voice had darkened, Luke noticed with a shiver.

Tentatively, like a child looking under his bed _knowing_ that the monster hiding there would attack him, Luke opened his senses.

His father reeked of the Dark Side. It hovered around him like a fetid ghost. Enticing, tantalizing; like a sensual mistress luring him in. The door had been opened in Anakin's heart and there was no turning back from the promise it offered.

Something in Luke died right then and there. His final hope.

"I... If you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed now. I'm v-very tired," he stuttered. "Good night." He bowed his head and turned around.

"Wait!" Anakin exclaimed, feeling as if something inside him would break at Luke's departure. He reached out and grabbed his wrist.

Luke stopped and raised his eyes to him.

'_Force, it's as if I was looking at the mirror of my own soul!'_ Anakin's spirit trembled at the moment of self-awareness that he couldn't explain.

"I-I've done something to hurt you, and I... I don't..." Anakin's gaze dropped. In the dim light, he could make out the broken synthskin on the back of the hand he was holding. His chest tightened with a brutal, excruciating pain. Once more, his fingers sought to heal the damage by caressing it over and over.

Brave and gentle soul that will never have the chance to blossom and thrive like it was meant to! Buffeted around by a million forces that will transform it into a pathetic, insane, vile mockery of the beauty it always should be.

Luke couldn't stop himself if his life depended on it. He reached up with his free hand and held the back of Anakin's neck, bringing it down.

"Belonging to the Dark Side doesn't necessarily involve killing men, women and children. It happens when you don't care about it anymore," he whispered to his father, tears of overwhelming love for the man coursing down his cheeks in an unending flow. Closing his eyes, he hastily bestowed an unpremeditated, forgiving kiss on the warm forehead, before letting go and rushing for his bedroom.

* * *

Anakin stood transfixed, staring after Luke. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He couldn't explain it, he couldn't begin to understand it; but the pain... Oh, the ache in his heart! It felt as if it was being stabbed by the finest dagger. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to think, it hurt to _be_! He turned about and leaned on the railing for support. He stared at the buildings in the distance, at the speeders, at the world out there without seeing them. Soon after, he felt his cheeks getting wet. He closed his eyes.

Pain. There was only pain for him. Inside and out. Even Luke seemed tainted by it. What was with this universe, this madness that soiled everything? He seemed to carry it deep within, soiling everything he touched.

He was torn, confused, and so tired! Only Luke seemed to bring some measure of sanity, comfort and light. And now it seemed that his friend was losing it too. Losing heart, losing his faith in himself and... in him too.

Force, the look in those eyes! For a second, it had even felt that... that Luke _knew_... knew about the door that the Chancellor's tale had opened... A chance. Maybe his only chance.

His last words had been... Yes, Luke knew... Somehow. He almost seemed to know what lay beyond the veil... and into the deepest reaches of his heart. And that sadness... That infinite sadness. So stoical, so hopeless...

And the poignant kiss on his forehead... as if absolving him for... for what?

Squeezing the railing hard between his fists, Anakin decided it was time to stop holding back. Luke's appearance at that precise moment in time, at that precise moment in their lives... there had to be a reason for it. He had forbidden himself to ask any questions, to even _think_ about them. If Luke came from the future - and he believed he did - then the consequences of interfering with the past – their present - could be catastrophic. He understood Luke's reserve better than anyone.

Already that very first night, indeed the very moment he set eyes on the young Jedi, he had felt_ it_. The connection, the _certainty_ that something bound them together, across time and space, beyond life and death. A spiritual bond that felt like a living, breathing thing. Closer than flesh and bone.

Did Luke and him know each other... in the future? And what about other people and events he had avoided to discuss? Was his fear of changing history the _only_ reason for so much evasiveness and caution?

A deep shudder went up and down his spine. His instincts told him he was onto something here. And those instincts guided him to an almost forgotten piece of information that had escaped his notice that evening. Something _major_.

He needed answers, if only for the sake of knowing the truth. And if Threepio's proverbial fussiness had slipped for once, he had an idea where to start.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	7. Chapter 7

Luke's eyes opened to another sunny morning in Coruscant. He could see it and feel it in the thin sunrays that fell on him, filtering through the window blinds.

Just as the foreboding heaviness in his heart and mind told him that today would be the day. The day when everything would end for all.

The young man sat up and looked around. Even the colours seemed duller, subdued, lifeless.

Slowly, his hand began to move across the sheets. He wasn't very knowledgeable about materials and fabrics, but the softness he was feeling was exquisite. So warm, so... welcoming to the touch. A perfect image of what his parents had been to him for the past four days.

Warm and kind people, who in a few hours would see the end of the world as they knew it; and in Anakin's case, by his own hand.

It seemed impossible. All in one fateful, unremarkable day.

No matter what, he had to find the strength to go on. Padme and Anakin must never suspect. He had interfered in their lives enough already. He couldn't afford slipping. Not now when it mattered most.

Forcing himself to get out of bed, he went to the bathroom, showered and got dressed in his cleaned black Jedi clothes and boots. Then, as he did every morning, headed for the kitchen.

"Hello there, sleepyhead!" a cheerful feminine voice greeted him when he was crossing the living room.

Luke turned his head with a start and saw his mother getting up from the couch she had been sitting on. She was dressed in a simple navy blue linen gown. She wore a matching beaded black necklace and a jet belt decorating the front of the gown. Her dark hair was loose, parted in the middle and secured back with invisible hairpins.

His chest constricted with an undefinable pain and yearning. Force, she looked so young, so... earthly in that outfit that accentuated her pregnancy! Her serene beauty broke his heart.

Padme rearranged the black shawl around her shoulders and approached him.

"Good morning. Did I oversleep?" Luke asked, fleetingly distracted, looking around as if searching for something. Or someone.

"No," Padme said with a short chuckle. "You didn't. It's us who got up earlier this morning," she held on to Luke's arm like the most normal thing, and they walked together to the kitchen. "Anakin will be out for a few hours, so I'm afraid I'll have to do."

Luke's eyes settled on his mother, clinging to his arm with such easygoing familiarity. His hand reached out and took hold of the smaller one, squeezing it fervently.

"There's no one I'd rather be with," he declared with all his soul.

She looked up at him and smiled as the kitchen door opened.

The young Jedi's eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he saw that the table was already set. Several pieces of fruit, including two Corellian peaches, a big glass of milk, and a huge piece of toast next to what looked like a jar of Nubian chocolate – if the label was anything to go by - seemed to be waiting for him!

His jaw dropped open, and he turned to his mother, blinking in utter astonishment.

Padme's smile became one of pure elation at his reaction.

"Enjoy," she said with a sweeping flourish of her hand.

Luke stared at the table in front of him in sheer disbelief. Corellian peaches and especially Nubian chocolate were two of the rarer and more expensive delicacies in the galaxy, at least in his time. How...?! His bulging eyes turned again to his mother.

"But... B-but..." he stammered.

Padme's smile grew bigger.

"Threepio told me you don't have heavy breakfasts exactly, and I decided that you were going to have one today, if I had anything to say about it." She looked pointedly at the table. "Soooo..."

It took a few seconds for Luke to come out of his stupor, and when he did, he took a seat almost in a daze.

"I hope everything is set to your satisfaction, sir," Threepio said, walking up to the table.

Luke glanced up at him.

"Erm... yes. I mean of course it is, thank you very much," he amended himself, eyeing the display of treats he never thought he would get to taste one day. Shaking his head, he looked at his mother again, realizing then that she was still standing. He jumped to his feet. "Please, sit down," he offered her the chair before him.

Grinning broadly, Padme sat down. Luke returned to his seat and with a sense of wonder he'd rarely experienced, he picked up the napkin. His gaze returned to the incredible breakfast.

"I-I really don't know where to start," he mumbled.

Padme's forefinger started pointing.

"Fruit. Milk. Chocolate." End of discussion.

Luke's eyes met hers.

"Yes, Mum," he answered, sitting straighter.

Padme burst out laughing happily. Good heavens, she was so fond of that young man, so very fond of him!

Luke wasn't particularly hungry, no more than the previous days, but he made the effort for his mother's sake. He ate the two Corellian peaches first, washing them down with the milk. Delicious didn't begin to describe their taste, and he attacked a small apple and a Talasean pear next with gusto. After that, his eager eyes turned to Padme.

"All right," she acceded with a feigned long-suffering look. "You may start with the chocolate now."

Luke's hands almost trembled while he spread the chocolate on the toast. The creamy, full scent made him feel light-headed. When he put the toast in his mouth, the flavour exploded in all its glory and he had to close his eyes.

His mother's chuckle brought him out of his reverie. He opened his eyes and began to chew.

"Am I drooling already?" he asked after a while, his eyes glowing exuberantly.

Padme laughed heartily at that.

"Almost," she replied. "You see, for the past month I've had this terrible craving for Nubian chocolate. Until I said to myself: 'Hey, why shouldn't you indulge yourself?'

Luke regarded her affectionately.

"Be careful, or the baby could become an addict," he teased her.

"Good," Padme shrugged, "the more the merrier."

It was Luke's turn now to laugh in earnest at the defiant look on the lovely face. He savoured the toast until the last crumb, and when it was over, it was all he could do to lick his lips.

"I'll remember this for the rest of my life," he sighed, smiling at his mother gratefully. "Thank you for sharing your craving with me."

Padme's answering smile was tinged with a nostalgic undertone.

"What is it?" Luke asked, reaching out and holding her wrist.

Padme looked down at the strong, gentle hand. She clicked her tongue bitterly and covered it with her own, patting it to comfort herself as much as him.

"I know I shouldn't feel like this. I knew the day would come, but..."

"What?" Luke asked again.

Sighing, Padme met his eyes.

"Anakin got a transmission this morning, from the body shop," the pain in her voice was palpable. "Your ship is repaired."

Luke leaned back in his chair gradually. His gaze became introspective. Yes, it was Time. Staying for longer would only jeopardize an already dangerous situation.

"I'm going to miss you, so much..."

Padme's cracking voice brought a lump to Luke's throat. His eyes misted and he squeezed the soft hand passionately.

"I will miss you too, more than I can say. You've been so good and kind to me. I can't find the words to tell you... to begin to..." he bit his lower lip, at a loss for words.

"You have been such a good friend to us," Padme's eyes reddened with emotion. "It's as if we had known you forever. Your wise advice, your... very presence has been a source of strength, of _hope, _for the two of us."

"I will take you both in my heart for as long as I live," Luke's free hand covered his mother's, completing the circle. "For as long as I live," he repeated, knowing he would remember this moment until the day he died.

Suddenly, he stiffened.

"What's wrong?" Padme looked around, as if expecting someone to walk in.

"Someone's coming," Luke said, tilting his head.

"Anakin?" Padme was used by now to Luke's announcements that invariably turned out to be correct.

"No," Luke shook his head. "Someone else." He concentrated on the Force-signature of the unannounced visitor. He knew this person, although they felt somewhat different from... And then he knew who it was. "It's another Jedi," he stated, rising to his feet.

Padme thought for a minute.

"It must be master Obi-Wan," she guessed rightly, standing up as well.

Luke took one step forward and held her hands in his own urgently.

"Listen to me. I'm going to the guest room now and enter a trance. A deep trance, to try and hide myself from him. I just hope I know how to do it. He _mustn't_ feel me here. I can't let anyone else, let alone..."

"I understand," Padme squeezed his hands, fully aware of the implications of his words.

"I don't know if I'll be able to wake up on my own. If you see that I don't come out after he's gone, please snap me out of it," Luke told her.

"All right," Padme nodded, a bit uneasy at the prospect. What if...?

"It'll be fine," Luke assured her with all the confidence he could muster. "Do not be concerned."

'_My goodness, his eyes!'_ Padme was blown away. _'So like Ani's!'_

She nodded again, looking at him in wonderment. Luke nodded back at her, released her hands and left the kitchen in haste.

* * *

'_Force, help me!'_ Luke implored, once he was sitting cross-legged on the bed. _'Obi-Wan must never find me here! I have to hide my presence from him! Please, please now!'_

He closed his eyes, struggling to control his heartbeat and respiration. He applied the meditation techniques master Yoda had conscientiously, minutely taught him, until he found himself reaching a hitherto unknown level of concentration. Not enough. Deeper. He had to go deeper. Deeper still, until there was no trace of him for his first master to follow.

Out of the blue, he found himself floating out of his body. Floating somewhere calm and peaceful. He had no awareness of the passage of time there. He truly was beyond time and space, beyond the universe itself. Someplace where all the possibilities lay before him like a canvas that was still to be painted. Fragmented memories, scenes both old and recent, and others he had no recollection of.

'_It's out there! I know it!'_

'_How did the boy know?'_

'_You know how. The same way his father did, Owen.'_

'_He knew my father?'_

'_Vader was seduced by the Dark Side of the Force.'_

'_How could you know my father? You don't even know who I am.'_

'_If you end your training now, if you choose the quick and easy path, as Vader did, you will become an agent of evil.'_

'_The Force is with you, young Skywalker. But you are not a Jedi yet.'_

'_Son, come with me.'_

'_I can't kill my own Father.'_

'_What is it?'_

'_Ask me again sometime.'_

'_The Force is strong in my family. My father has it. I have it, and... my sister has it.'_

'_I feel the conflict within you. Let go of your hate!'_

'_I'm looking forward to completing your training. In time you will call me master.'_

'_I'll never turn to the Dark Side.'_

'_Young fool. Only now, at the end, do you understand.'_

'_Are you sure you've never seen him before?'_

'_I'm Anakin Skywalker, and this is my wife, Senator Padme Amidala.'_

'_I will not lose her.'_

'_Who are you?'_

'_You belong here with me!'_

'_Just look at him.'_

'_I'm so unworthy!'_

'_Always here for you, my baby.'_

'_I... I don't know what's happening to me.'_

'_I will always come back to you!'_

A whirlpool of images and sounds he couldn't make out passed rapidly before his mind's eye. Faster and faster, until everything was spinning out of control...

"_Luke. Luke, wake up. Luke, can you hear me?"_

The grounding touch of a gentle hand on his shoulder brought him out of that spiral of insanity like magic. His eyes burst open.

"W-who? Wh-what? What is this? Where...?"

"It's me, Padme. Do you know me?"

Eventually, his eyes focused on the breathtakingly beautiful face leaning over him. He knew that lovely face... Padme. Yes, Padme Amidala. His mother. He was still in the past; still in his parents' apartment.

"Yes, yes, I do," he nodded, shaking his head to clear it completely. Everything came back to him in a flash. He looked into her eyes keenly. "Did it work? Did he...?"

"Yes, it did," Padme smiled wonderingly. "There were a couple times when he looked around, like sensing something, but he ended up shrugging it off. Whatever you did, it worked."

Luke expelled all the air in his lungs in one long breath.

"How long...?" he asked all of a sudden. He had lost track of time.

"About fifty minutes," Padme replied. "I was getting nervous because I didn't know for how long you'd be able to remain... you know."

Luke smiled up at his mother with a nod, and unfurling his legs, he stood up carefully. No dizziness or wobbly legs. That was a good sign.

"Thank you for waking me up. You did it right on time," he told her while they returned to the living room, walking side by side.

They sat on the couch, sharing a comfortable silence. Luke studied his mother, noticing the tiredness on her slightly slouched shoulders.

"You should make the most of your day off," he told her attentively. "Rest until lunchtime if you want. I will help Threepio with the cooking. It'll be my farewell present for you."

They exchanged a bittersweet smile.

Padme didn't feel like lying down, but she couldn't deny the fact that at this point in her pregnancy she felt heavier and more tired than usual. A little nap couldn't hurt, quite the contrary. But she also wanted – no, _needed_ - to make the most of every moment she had left with Luke.

The young man saw the indecision on her face.

"Come on," he encouraged her. "It'll be for a short time anyway. My 'abilities' won't allow me to engage in fancy culinary experiments," he made a goofy face that didn't fail to make his mother laugh.

"All right, smooth talker," she acquiesced fondly, beginning to stand up. "But only for a little while," she bargained, pointing a finger at Luke.

"Agreed," he said in all seriousness, rising too.

Padme stared at him, a bit surprised. That expression, and the way he'd said "agreed" were so damned familiar! She hesitated for an instant, and then forced her eyes away from him, heading for the bedroom.

Luke watched her go with tears in his eyes.

* * *

The next hour was spent peeling and cutting up food, boiling and frying lightly all the ingredients he needed to prepare the best meal his limited cooking knowledge allowed him. While stirring the final product, he asked Threepio to set the table. Twenty minutes later, he was pouring the soup into the dishes.

"Whatever your price is, I'll hire you."

Luke turned his head and observed his mother, who examined the table with hungry anticipation. She looked absolutely stunning, not a hair out of place, and definitely refreshed.

"You should hire my aunt. She could make the most delicious meal out of anything, and with practically nothing," he smiled at her, offering her the chair. "Did you rest well?"

"Yes, I did, thank you," she said, sitting down.

Luke sat before her and took the spoon.

"This was her 'master recipe,' when she managed to get all the ingredients. I hope I did it justice."

"I'm sure you did," Padme affirmed, holding the spoon and nodding to him.

They tasted it simultaneously and looked at each other.

"I want the recipe _now_," Padme demanded with wide eyes.

"Threepio has it," Luke replied with a chuckle. "I'm glad you like it."

"Now _that's_ an understatement if I ever heard one," Padme commented, indulging herself unashamedly to Luke's amusement.

The second dish consisted of stew with a 'special sauce' that Luke refused to reveal. Padme's eyes lit up at the flavour.

"I'll take it as a compliment," Luke teased her.

"I hope Threepio also has the recipe, for your own safety," she mock-threatened him.

Luke smiled enigmatically and continued eating.

They were almost finished when Padme hit the young man with the most ironical question.

"Do you miss your parents?"

When he recovered from the emotional jolt, Luke tried to appear nonchalant, rising a poignant eyebrow.

"One would think that you can't miss that which you've never had," he replied, staring at the fork in his hand.

"That's not what I'm asking you," Padme said.

"Every day of my life," Luke straightened up and met her eyes with a fervour that shocked her to the core. "Every. Single. Day."

Padme flushed at the intensity in those incredible blue depths. Why did it feel like they were telling her something deadly important? Something she _should_ know? In the end she had to look down, feeling that her question had intruded into something terribly private. No, more than private. Something... sacred, to the young Jedi.

"It's just that I... now that I'm going to be a mother, I think I'm beginning to understand my own mother, and my sister too, when they said that having a child changes you forever. Your outlook on life and its priorities. It's something you can't even conceive until you're holding your baby in your arms for the first time." She braved Luke's gaze. "It breaks my heart to know that you never... that your parents never had the chance..." she paused and shook her head, words failing her.

On his part, Luke was struggling with the information his mother had unknowingly given him.

'_Grandmother! Does it mean that we could still have grandparents? And an aunt? And cousins too?'_

"Luke?" Padme asked, noticing his distracted look.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, making eye-contact again. "What can I say?" he sighed with a shrug. "That's how things turned out to be. I'm just trying to do my best and help others. I think I'm lucky in many ways. I have very good friends who care about me. I found my own family, although a part of me will always be empty."

Padme looked at him, speechless, marveling at the young man's approach to life. At his fortitude and resilience, despite all the ugly things that had befallen him. Or maybe _because_ of them.

That thought hurt even more. She reached out and held his bionic hand.

"It's the biggest wake up call, to see firsthand to what extent the loss of your parents can scar you for life. I see it in Anakin's eyes every day. Being separated from his mother as a child, losing her the way he did..." she looked away with a shudder, and brought her other hand to her belly instinctively. "But I just _know_ that when he's holding our baby in his arms... everything will change for him. It will be a rebirth for both of us. It doesn't matter the hurdles we have to face. Anakin being expelled from the Order, me not being allowed to serve in the Senate..." she grimaced in regret, but dismissed it right away, gathering strength from a deeper, stronger knowledge that she carried within. "Somehow, I feel that our baby will herald the change that will heal us all."

Luke couldn't take his eyes off his mother, realizing where Leia's tenacity and perseverance came from; _and_ his own unshakeable faith in what other wiser people would consider a lost cause.

'_Your mother died believing there was still good in him.'_

Luke closed his eyes.

'_I will save him, Mother. I will prove your faith in him. He will come back, because he has to! All this love will not be in vain.'_

They let go of each other's hands with a parting squeeze, and finished eating in a reverential silence, sharing occasional little smiles of affirmation and mutual reassurance.

After helping Threepio to clear the table, Luke took his mother to the veranda and they sat on the couch, contemplating the busy city life flying around them.

Padme studied the beautiful features, deeply affected by the play of emotions on the smooth face she'd come to know as well as her husband's.

"Have you ever been to Coruscant before?" she asked at last.

Luke turned his face to her, and Padme saw a flawless blending of awe and sadness in his eyes.

"No," he shook his head. "The closest I've been to the Core Worlds is Ord Mantell." He turned again to the bustling world out there and this time, awe won.

"What do you think of it?" Padme asked with genuine curiosity.

"It's an amazing sight," Luke smiled, taking a sweeping glance at everything he could see from their vantage point. "It looks so... cosmopolitan."

"Cosmopolitan?!" Padme chuckled at Luke's chosen word for it. Definitely, it wasn't the adjective she would have used to describe it. Well, maybe some districts, but as a whole... But then, this view was all Luke had to judge. "Yes, I suppose it does look cosmopolitan when seen from here," she nodded pensively. "I wish I could show you the best sights and places to visit."

Luke turned his head at the great sorrow his mother's voice conveyed. He smiled woefully and held her hand in his own.

"I w-" he trailed off and whipped his head to the side.

"What?" Padme straightened her back.

"Anakin's coming," Luke said solemnly. His senses sharpened to feel more clearly. There was something about his father's Force signature. Something... ill-defined, disquieting. It chilled him to the bone.

Padme smiled with a little sigh and patted his hand, releasing it slowly.

"I'm going to talk about dinner with Threepio now," she said, standing up.

Luke sprang to his feet.

"You don't have to..."

She smiled softly at him.

"Your time with us is running short. Let him have this memory of you. I know it will mean everything to him," she almost whispered.

Luke opened his mouth, but couldn't think of anything to say. The ache in his heart was unbearable.

With a last smile and nod, Padme walked into the apartment.

Luke watched her go clenching his fists helplessly. Why did it have to be so hard?

Turning about, he gazed off into the distance, knowing that one of the tiny points out there was his father flying home. For some reason, his eyes fixed on a bright spot that reflected the sunlight and seemed to come in the apartment's direction. The object became bigger and bigger, until the young man could make out Anakin's ship, followed closely by another. He frowned uncomprehendingly, until he recognized the second ship.

Anakin arrived seconds later with his X-Wing in tow, and quickly jumped out of the Interceptor. Luke stared enthralled at his father's ship, smitten by its stylish design and impeccable state of maintenance. But before he could say anything, his father beat him to it.

"Verify that everything's working to your satisfaction," he said, giving him the strangest look and walking inside the apartment without a backward glance.

Luke froze where he stood for a minute, unable to react. Not a smile, not even a polite greeting. Something was wrong; very very wrong.

Pulling himself together with a shaky intake of breath, he started for his X-Wing. Artoo's beeping noises as he rolled down the right wing of Anakin's Interceptor alerted him to the little droid's presence.

"Artoo, could you please help me check the systems of my ship?" he asked.

The blue droid beeped assent, and while Luke climbed into the cockpit of his X-Wing, he heard a loud combustion noise. He looked up and then had to do a double take. Artoo had displayed twin booster rockets and was flying the few metres that separated him from his ship.

'_What the...?'_ the young man wondered, stupefied.

Artoo landed himself in his astromech slot and started running tests on all shipboard systems, correlating data, and monitoring the performance of the engine startup. Luke received the results on his main screen, and needed only a few seconds to understand that his X-Wing had endured not only an extensive bodywork, but it had been fine-tuned to the tiniest detail as well. He gave his father a silent thought of gratitude.

"Yes, Artoo. Everything's working at 100%," he told the droid. "You can go now, if you want. I'll shut everything down. And thanks for your help."

Artoo beeped back happily in acknowledgment and propelled himself out of the X-Wing, returning to his own slot in Anakin's Interceptor. He began a routine check of all systems to kill time while he waited for his young master.

Luke remained sitting in his X-wing, feeling oddly numb. Nothing stopped him from taking off and leaving this instant. Without question, it would be the wisest thing to do. But he couldn't ignore the fact that he didn't know if he had fulfilled the objective that had brought him here. He didn't have that impression; however, at this moment he was too caught up in his parents' lives to not be a danger to them and their time, now more than ever.

Not to forget the look his father had given him... it gave him the shudders.

'_Please, what must I do?' _he begged. He closed his eyes and hung his head, soul-tired.

He felt momentarily dizzy and his ears began to ring. He reached out to the Force for balance, and all at once...

'_I feel lost.'_

'_Lost? What do you mean?'_

'_Obi-Wan and the Council don't trust me.'_

'_They trust you with their lives.'_

'_Something's happening. I'm not the Jedi I should be. I want more, and I know I shouldn't.'_

Luke willed himself out of the involuntary trance, realizing that he was eavesdropping the conversation his parents were having at that very moment.

But how? Through which means...?

The self-evident answer made him gasp out loud. He and his father were linked mentally.

If anything, this was even stronger evidence that he had to leave immediately. And yet... the cry for help that his father's words were, even though he wasn't aware of it, held him back.

'_Bury your feelings deep down, Luke.'_

'_He reached a critical point in his life and he had no one to turn to.'_

What to do? What decision to make? Reason versus emotion. Intellect versus intuition.

Common sense versus filial love.

Shaking his head, Luke exited his X-Wing and looked at it from the bottom step of the staircase. He made the gesture of returning to it, but stopped.

'_I need you.'_

Choking back a sob and biting his lower lip until he drew blood, Luke turned about and climbed the remaining steps with a heavy heart. He stood beside the fountain, seriously questioning his sanity.

"You will be leaving today, won't you?"

His father's pain was alive, clawing at his insides and ripping them open. And a sizeable portion of that pain was the prospect of saying goodbye to him. For good.

For the first time, Luke felt guilty. Guilty about the mysterious twist of fate that had brought him there.

"You know I have to," he replied hoarsely.

Anakin walked up next to him, brushing his shoulder with his arm.

"Yes, I do," his voice was equally hoarse. "But knowing it doesn't make it any easier."

Luke lowered his head. Why did it feel like he was deserting his father when he needed him the most? What was his role in this story, once and for all?!

"How do you do it?"

The resentment in Anakin's voice was like acid on an open wound.

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking up at the glowering features.

"I mean how can you stand there. So... accepting, so at peace with yourself, when deep down you know... you _know_..."

Luke's body followed his head and turned to face his father.

"Know what?"

"How wrong this is!" Anakin exploded, turning to face him. Anger reddened his features. He wanted to hit something, he wanted to yell at the young Jedi until he understood... until he admitted... "You belong here with me! With Padme. You belong with us. And you know it too!"

There was greed in Anakin's passion. Selfish, self-serving greed. And in that very moment, Luke knew how that unhealthy passion, stoked up by Palpatine, had corrupted his father's already crumbling ethics and self-restraint, transforming his personal goals and ambitions into a megalomaniac delirium to rule the galaxy, and bend the universe to his will.

'_I have brought peace, freedom, justice and security to my new Empire.'_

Recoiling inwardly from what those smouldering eyes reflected, Luke tried desperately to reason with the man he had admired since before he was born.

"Anakin, even if I admitted that, you know I _must_ go! For all our sakes!"

Anakin straightened up to his full height in triumph at Luke's admission.

"All I know is that in four little days you have become the dearest, closest thing to my heart since my mother and my wife. And there _has_ to be a reason for it." His eyes gleamed with a secret knowledge. "And we both know what that reason is, don't we?"

Luke's blood ran cold in his veins.

"W-What?" he stuttered, paling like a ghost.

Anakin smiled knowingly.

"We had a concurrent vision yesterday. I saw you fighting the Sith Lord who took your hand."

Luke's eyes opened wide in shock.

"You _do_ know Obi-Wan, don't you?" Anakin took a small step forward. "And you know me too, in the future?"

Luke's eyes strayed from his father's face, and he stepped back.

"I-I can't..."

Anakin reached into the leather pouch in his belt and produced a folded piece of cloth with what seemed to be... blood stains?

"Please, don't deny it. It's written in your blood."

Luke's teeth began to chatter. Force, had his father analyzed...? Did he know...?

"Your midichlorian count is almost 20,000. Higher than master Yoda's," Anakin's eyes bored into his soul. "And in all the history of the Jedi, there has been only one person with a higher count than Yoda's," the blond head tilted meaningfully. "Me."

Luke didn't know where to look. He was trembling from head to foot, cornered by his father and the truth, and terrified of where this would lead.

Anakin dropped the cloth to the floor and grasped Luke's shoulder. His touch burned like fire, even through his clothing.

"Who are you? Why are you so important, so vital to me?"

Luke's brain short-circuited with fear. And when his skittish gaze returned to his father's eyes, he couldn't look away again.

"I'm Luke S-"

"I know that your name is Luke Stargazer!" Anakin exclaimed, exasperated by his friend's deliberate denseness. But then, the swift, almost imperceptible twitch of the young features gave away the most unexpected deception. "Or is it?" the penetrating blue eyes pierced the cowering man like lasers.

Luke shrank from his father's touch.

"Don't, please," he asked pleadingly.

Anakin's stare turned to his own hand, and although he wasn't squeezing Luke's shoulder tight, something in his grip seemed... aggressive.

"I'm sorry," he let go with a start. "I'm not offended, believe me. I understand that you thought you were protecting us by hiding your true identity. But that's exactly it," Anakin's eyes flashed intensely. "I need to protect you too. And judging from what you said and what I saw in my vision, your future isn't a happy place." His hand reached out of its own volition and held Luke's shoulder again, gently. "Maybe you were thrown back in time so that _I _could keep _you_ safe? And make a difference in your life?"

Luke closed his eyes, emotionally exhausted.

"Since I arrived, I've been looking for an answer to why I'm here," he confessed. "I may never find it, but I do know one thing: information is a power greater than you can possibly imagine. It gives you the ability to influence a galaxy's destiny. That's why I must go. This very conversation poses a danger whose consequences we can't fathom."

Anakin's hand snapped back, and Luke knew he'd struck a nerve. It was as if a dam burst in his father's mind and all the frustrations of a lifetime broke loose.

"Do you want to know what too much information did for me?" sarcasm oozed from every bitterly spoken word. "Nothing!" he spat. "How do you expect your big answer to be? A sign in the sky? A booming voice in your head? Well, wake up, little one. It never happens that way! And I should know. I waited for weeks for such a sign, and when it didn't come and I finally made up my mind and took action, my mother died! She died because I wasn't strong enough, brave enough to act upon my dreams when I started having them. Just as I am doing now, as I keep seeing Padme die while I'm sitting in the couch!" he stood straight proudly. "Being a Jedi means being responsible for your powers and what you do with them. I promise you I will be!" he started past him.

Luke's hand shot out and grabbed Anakin's forearm, stopping him in mid-stride.

"But at what price?" he cried out, beside himself with helplessness, seeing his father march right into his doom. "Don't you understand how susceptible to manipulation you are? How easy it would be for anyone to take advantage of your vulnerability? Even the ones you trust the most?"

"Like yourself?"

Luke jumped back as if he had been slapped, and released his father's arm.

The two young men looked deep into each other's eyes. Luke saw his father's instant regret of his words, and Anakin saw the pain that his cruel, uncalled-for accusation had caused. Still, he didn't back up. He bent forward and spoke in a dark, hissing voice.

"I won't lose my wife. I won't lose my child."

Luke's last bout of strength died away.

"Even if they lose you?" he breathed, eyes filling with tears.

Neither pretended not to know what he was talking about. And then, the unthinkable happened. Anakin's face metamorphosed into the very image of resignation, of blood-curdling acceptance of whatever became of his soul. He gave Luke a smile that the youth would remember until his last breath, and turned around.

'_No!'_ Luke's mind shouted after his father. _'Don't go like this! Not because of me!'_

His paralysed legs responded at last, and he followed Anakin almost in a daze.

"Don't do it. Please! You're too important! Don't forfeit your soul in a moment of despair. Anakin, please!"

Anakin broke into a run towards his Interceptor, and with a technique and skill that Luke was still to master, he jumped right into the cockpit. The engines roared to life.

"ANAKIN!" Luke yelled.

Three seconds later, the Interceptor flew away.

"ANAKIN, NO!" Luke collapsed to his knees, out of his mind with horror and grief.

It couldn't be happening. It couldn't be happening! He couldn't have just thrown his father into Palpatine's arms. He couldn't have just succeeded in accomplishing the very thing he would give his life to prevent.

He buried his face in his hands, devastated and broken. Shattered to the depths of his being.

'_If only we'd never been born! If Mother hadn't gotten pregnant, she wouldn't have died in childbirth and Father wouldn't have turned." _he sobbed, abandoning himself to hopelessness. "_I failed you, Father. Please, forgive me! Oh, Force, what have I done? What have I done?'_

TO BE CONTINUED...


	8. Chapter 8

The young Jedi lost all track of time, crushed by the knowledge of what he had done and eaten by self-condemnation. When he returned from the unforgiving place he had been dwelling on, he found himself curled up on the floor, clutching in his hands the piece of cloth with his blood on it. He was shivering with cold, and he felt old and sick. Sick to the bone. His senses were numbed, and he could barely touch the Force, so weak he was.

He heard his mother's approaching steps, and with all the strength he could summon, he put the cloth into the leather pouch in his belt. Then he tried to rise, but fell back down.

"Luke!" his mother called out. Her steps sounded louder and faster, and soon after, he felt her kneeling down beside him, trying to help him stand.

Half-conscious, Luke shook her off, not wanting her to get hurt.

"It's all right, I've got you," she soothed him tenderly; and with an energy that surprised him even in his state, she pulled him to his feet. A small, deceptively frail hand cupped his face, holding it steady. "Oh, my goodness!" she gasped in dismay. "You must lie down. Come on, lean on me."

Padme wrapped Luke's arm around her shoulders and offered herself as a crutch. She wrapped her arm around his waist and took him to the guest room, that fortunately was down the very corridor that led to the veranda.

Luke struggled in and out of consciousness. He was almost feverish, and it was all Padme could do to cool his face with a damp washcloth, whispering to him that everything would be all right.

"Please, tell me it's not too late for you," she begged him. Her hand caressed the pale cheeks and stroked the soft blond hair, _willing_ the young man to look at her and say something.

Luke's eyes fluttered open and for the first time, Padme saw recognition in them. His eyelids seemed to be too heavy for him to keep open, but he tried, and gave her the sweetest, saddest smile.

Through the haze clouding his mind, Luke made out the form of his mother. But somehow, she looked different from the last time he had seen her... Ahhhh, it was her dress. She had changed into a magnificent green velvet gown with a purple sash just above her belly; and her hair was all loose and curled, falling around her shoulders and down her back like a cascade of Ossus honey. He reached up tiredly, needing to touch it.

"A-Are you an angel?" he whispered in wonder.

Padme's heart almost stopped. She studied the young face, so unguarded and full of longing, and at that very moment she _knew_, without any shadow of a doubt, that she knew him. She always had, and she always would.

"If I could choose between all the mothers in the Universe, I would choose you," he murmured, brushing delicately a fine curly strand with his forefinger.

Padme bit her lower lip, trembling like a leaf. She took the cold, sweaty hand in her own, brought it to her lips and kissed it.

"You would be _any _mother's pride and joy," she whispered back to him thickly, wiping away the stray tear that began to escape down the corner of his right eye.

Luke's mournful smile wilted slowly and his eyes turned to the ceiling. Something was calling out to him. Something far away, and his heart followed it blindly. His eyes dropped closed.

"Luke? Luke!" Padme grasped the black-clad shoulders and shook them. Not too hard, just enough for the young Jedi to wake up.

He didn't.

* * *

Luke felt weightless, ingravid. He floated in the clear blue sky, above the skyscrapers and speeders flying around in all directions. As exhilarating as the feeling was, there seemed to be a purpose to where he was going, and he let go until he identified the building right in front of his line of vision. The fortress with the five spires on top looked even more impressive this close. Timeless. Eternal. But when he was about to touch it, a strange force swept him away, taking him in a different direction, towards what looked like a domed complex that rose several hundred metres above the surface of the planet.

When he caught a clear glimpse of the building, he felt an instant acceleration and a heartbeat later, he found himself floating in the ceiling of a circular room at the top of a set of stairs. A large desk, very well equipped, was displayed before a full panoramic window of the city below.

Sitting at that desk, examining a holographic image, was the one being in the galaxy that Luke had been avoiding in mind and soul since he arrived.

Chancellor Palpatine.

He didn't look at all like the mysteriously hooded creature he'd known all his life, quite the contrary. He looked as plain and unremarkable as any other politician. Elegantly dressed in dark robes and a burgundy sleeveless overcoat, he swiveled in his chair and received his father with a solemn look.

"Chancellor, we've just received a report from master Kenobi. He has engaged General Grievous."

"We can only hope that master Kenobi is up to the challenge."

Anakin's face reflected his inner turmoil.

"I should be there with him."

"It's upsetting to me to see that the Council doesn't seem to fully appreciate your talents. Don't you wonder why they won't make you a Jedi master?"

"I wish I knew. More and more I get the feeling that I'm being excluded from the Council."

Palpatine nodded compassionately.

"I know there are things about the Force that they're not telling me."

Palpatine stood up.

"They don't trust you, Anakin. They see your future. They know your power will be too strong to control. You must break through the fog of lies the Jedi have created around you."

As the two figures ventured into the corridor side by side, Palpatine's hand on Anakin's back in a warm, fatherly gesture, a heartbroken Luke had to marvel at the web that the future Emperor had woven around his father. A web made of half-truths and outright lies that Anakin couldn't get away from. _Wouldn't want_ to get away from.

Luke didn't understand why the Force had brought him here. He'd already learned more than he had bargained for. One would think that in this incorporeal, otherworldly realm he was above good and evil, beyond the struggles and conflicts of mortals, but he wasn't. His father's conflict and its seemingly inevitable resolution reverberated through every corner of his being. What's worse, it felt like a punishment. It was horrific enough to know what was about to happen, was he meant to witness it as well?

"Let me help you to know the subtleties of the Force."

He'd just gotten his answer.

"How do you know the ways of the Force?"

"My mentor told me everything about the Force. Even the nature of the Dark Side."

His father moved in front of Palpatine stealthily, blocking his path.

"You know the Dark Side?"

"Anakin, if one is to understand the great mistery, why not study all its aspects, not just the dogmatic, narrow view of the Jedi? If you wish to become a complete and wise leader, you must embrace a larger view of the Force."

Luke watched the two men begin to circle each other like two predators assessing the situation.

"Be careful of the Jedi, Anakin. Only through me can you achieve a power greater than any Jedi. Learn to know the Dark Side of the Force, and you will be able to save your wife from certain death."

Anakin froze at the Chancellor's last words.

"What did you say?"

"Use my knowledge, I beg you."

His father's unhesitating drawing and igniting of his lightsaber kindled a flame of hope in Luke's spirit.

"You're the Sith Lord!"

The anger and betrayal in Anakin's voice were as dangerous and deadly as a krayt dragon.

"I know what's been troubling you. Listen to me. Don't continue to be a pawn of the Jedi Council. Ever since I've known you, you've been searching for a life greater than that of an ordinary Jedi. A life of significance, of conscience."

Luke could feel his father's hatred passing through him like the shockwaves of an earthquake. It pulsed like a breathing, living thing. And it was obvious that Palpatine could feel it too. He turned away from Anakin in a thoroughly reckless move.

"Are you going to kill me?"

"I would certainly like to."

His father's voice trembled with the superhuman effort at self-control.

"I know you would. I can feel your anger. It gives you focus. Makes you stronger."

Luke shuddered, repulsed by Palpatine's reaction. He was feeding off his father's hate. It was almost like a sexual release.

Then, Anakin managed to get a hold of his runaway emotions and turned off his saber. That simple act seemed to drain him completely.

"I'm going to turn you over to the Jedi Council."

Palpatine turned around to face him.

"Of course, you should. But you're not sure of their intentions either."

'_You bastard!'_ Luke's soul screamed.

"I will quickly discover the truth of all this."

"You have great wisdom, Anakin. Know the power of the Dark Side. The power to save Padme."

And on hearing those last words, Luke knew that his beloved father's fate was decided, no matter what went down.

He saw Anakin walk away, his brown Jedi robe billowing behind him. Palpatine stood where he was, staring after him, his sympathetic smile mutating into a rictus of sheer evil.

"You're mine, Chosen One," his voice sounded like the hiss of a snake. "At last."

Luke felt sick. His _body_, whatever it was at this very moment, felt physically ill.

'_Please, I can't take it anymore!'_ he implored.

As if taking pity on him, his essence began to float away again, and he left behind that foul nest of Darkness and moral depravity.

For an indeterminate amount of time, he wasn't aware of where he was going next. He could only find relief in being away from that demon's perverse, corrupting influence. The sunshine warmed him, and a glimmer of peace returned to him.

The Jedi Temple appeared suddenly before his eyes, and seconds later he was in a dimly lit hangar, with several Old Republic Gunships ready to take off. His attention was drawn to a small group of what could only be Jedi.

His heart lifted at the mere sight of them. This was the golden era of the Jedi, when they were a natural part of the life and landscape of the galaxy. The normalcy of it hit him hard, compared to the oddity that he was in his time. So lonely...

He saw his father approaching the group, and without even thinking about it, he was hovering over him, as close as he could get.

"Master Windu, I must talk to you."

The bald-headed, dark-skinned man began to walk in the direction of one of the ships and Anakin fell into step with him.

"Skywalker, we just received word that Obi-Wan has destroyed General Grievous. We're on our way to make sure the Chancellor returns emergency power back to the Senate."

"He won't give up his power. I've just learned a terrible truth. I think Chancellor Palpatine is a Sith Lord."

The older Jedi stopped on the spot and turned to Anakin.

"A Sith Lord?!"

"Yes; the one we've been looking for."

"How do you know this?"

"He knows the ways of the Force. He's been trained to use the Dark Side."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

Master Windu made a grimace and looked away with a bitter expression on his face.

"Then our worst fears have been realized. We must move quickly if the Jedi Order is to survive."

He started again for the nearest Gunship at a brisk pace, and Anakin followed him.

"Master, the Chancellor is very powerful. You'll need my help if you're going to arrest him."

"For your own good stay out of this affair. I sense a great deal of confusion in you, young Skywalker. There is much fear that clouds your judgment."

"I _must_ go, master."

The two men stopped by the ship.

"No. If what you've told me is true, you'll have gained my trust. But for now remain here. Wait in the Council chambers until we return."

Master Windu boarded the Gunship that promptly took off.

"Yes, master," Anakin said, even though the older man couldn't hear him anymore.

His father's feelings of dejection, frustration and loss, coupled with the tangible proof of being an outcast even amongst his equals, washed over Luke like a tide. It didn't matter who was to blame at this point. All these feelings plus other much darker ones would come to a head today, and the holocaust that would derive from them would be inconcievable.

And it was at that moment, watching Anakin's last hours as a Jedi, watching him turn about obediently and head for the Council chambers, that Luke loved his father more than he ever had before.

_If only..._

He reached out to touch the wavy blond hair, but then he was yanked back by an irresistible force. He cried out.

* * *

The moaning of a woman in pain was the first thing he was aware of, even before he opened his eyes. He 'returned' to his body with a start, to the vision of his mother sitting on the bed beside him, hunched over her belly, grabbing it and also her right side. Her contorted face revealed that she was in agony.

He tried to sit up and help her, but he couldn't. He was very debilitated by the out of body experience he'd just had, and he slumped back on the bed with a gasp. He stretched out his arm, but when he was about to touch her, he remembered the danger his proximity represented to her and the babies, and pulled back.

"The b-baby's reacting to me. To my nearness," he told her breathlessly. "You must get away from me."

"I can't leave you alone," Padme protested, her voice rough with pain. "You were unconscious!"

"I wasn't. I was in a trance to save my strength," he lied vehemently, ready to do _anything_ to keep her safe. "You must protect your child," his eyes did their best to calm her. "Please, go. I'll just stay here... and rest."

Padme held her big belly in her hands and met his eyes, still in refusal.

And looking into those worried brown eyes, the young Jedi found the words that would convince her.

"I'll be fine. But I need to know that I'm not harming your baby. I would never forgive myself," he smiled weakly. "Send Threepio if it'll make you feel better. He'll watch over me better than you could with those eyes."

Padme didn't say anything for a minute. Then, she had to grin at his sweet attempt at humour. She took several deep breaths, until she had the pain under control.

"All right," she nodded reluctantly. "But I'll pop in every now and then to see how you're doing," she warned him, rising with some effort.

"I'll be here," Luke nodded back. "Please, leave now," he urged her.

With a last look and holding her stomach with one hand, Padme left the room, her body language showing with every step how much it was costing her to comply with his request.

Once alone, Luke's eyes turned again to the ceiling. The tears ran freely then.

Now what? Was he supposed to accompany his father in his final descent into Darkness? And after that? Should he run to his ship and escape this ugly place, leaving his wrecked family behind?

A part of him didn't care anymore. He'd learned the meaning of 'be careful what you wish for' the hard way. Now everything was in the arms of the Force. He could only comply with its will and pick up the pieces of his shattered heart when he returned home.

He blinked a couple times to clear his vision from the tears he was shedding like drops of rain. A chilling calm and resignation gripped him in their cold embrace, and he relaxed on that warm, welcoming bed that in another reality might have been his. Or his sister's.

He felt another familiar pull, which source he could tell now. It was the unconscious call of a lost soul praying for balance to do the right thing. The soul that was forever linked to his. In any Universe and any Time.

He couldn't not answer that call, the same way he couldn't not breathe. Letting himself go, he soon felt light and weightless again. He looked down at his inert body lying on the bed, and Threepio entering the room and walking up to his bedside. Seconds later, he was leaving the apartment again and soaring in the Coruscant sunset, heading straight for the southwestern tower of the Jedi Temple.

* * *

Padme interlaced her fingers in her lap. The pain had ceased, and a profound confusion filled her thoughts now. Confusion and an untold sadness.

The look in Luke's eyes had carved a hole in her heart. It was as if he carried the pain of a universe on his shoulders. And that pain was now part of her.

But the craziest thing was that she felt guilty for that pain. As if that young man's burden was _her_ responsibility, and she had failed to relieve him of it.

She couldn't help but think of her husband next. How his expectations of himself were implacable, impossible to meet by human standards. The haunted look in his eyes when he talked about the lives that had been lost in the war and he had failed to protect, his commitment to keep the innocent safe reminded her so much of Luke's sense of duty to the others... There was so much of Anakin in Luke, so much of Luke in Anakin! It was as if they were two aspects of the same soul.

The twilight was coming, and the spectacular reddish hue of the sky illuminating the apartment turned oppressive all of a sudden. It looked like the heavens were ablaze, weeping tears of fire, crying out a long, shrilling wail for them all. It felt like the sunset of an era. The death of something precious that all of them had contributed to destroy.

Restless, she rose from the couch and walked over to the windows, looking out into the distance. Instinctively, she looked for the Jedi Temple, knowing that Anakin was there at that very instant. Fighting, working tirelessly to put an end to this carnage that was consuming the Republic from within.

A searing feeling of loss came over her. They had _already_ failed. She didn't know how she knew it, she just did. A time of Darkness like the galaxy had never known, was upon them.

Was that why their baby kicked and squirmed savagely in her belly after two days of relative calm? Was it protesting against the legacy their mistakes would leave for their generation to suffer?

'_My love, what have we done? When did we lose the way?'_ she thought in boundless remorse.

* * *

Luke watched his father stand from his seat on the Jedi Council and walk up tiredly to one of the windows. He could see every single emotion crossing the scarred, tormented face like it was an open book.

'_You know that your fellow Jedi intend to kill Palpatine, don't you?'_ he thought. _'And if they do, Mother's chances of survival will be zero. Or that's what *you* think.'_

From his vantage point, he noticed that Anakin was looking out in the direction of Padme's apartment. Little by little, the striking blue eyes clouded with tears.

Force, how could such a perfect blending of selfish and selfless love, of bottled-up anger and infinite compassion coexist in one person? How could someone with such potential, with so much to give, have come to that?

He felt in his flesh the moment his father made his decision. The moment he snuffed out the inner light that guided him, and gave up on any possibility of deserving forgiveness for what he was about to do. Giving up on Anakin Skywalker, the man and the Jedi.

The tears rolled down the ravaged countenance as he turned around, all hope lost, all remaining innocence a howling ghost at his back.

Luke followed his father out of the chambers. Truly, there was no choice, for either of them. It _was_ the will of the Force; he knew that now.

* * *

Padme bowed her head, feeling in the most private and secret part of her soul that it was over.

Lost chances. Missed opportunities. Wasted time. All gone. They would all pay for their arrogance; for all the neverending sessions at the Senate, all the amendments and motions that only succeeded in prolonging the conflict.

All the lives sacrificed.

They were so absorbed in their self-importance that they had become obsolete, like an archaic animal; and as such they would be wiped out.

Nervous footsteps neared her, and she turned her head. It was Threepio, and he seemed agitated. She turned all the way to him.

The golden droid bowed his head to her.

"Excuse me, milady," he said, sounding strangely subdued, even concerned. "I'm afraid our young guest has lapsed into unconsciousness again."

Padme's face went white.

* * *

Anakin ran as fast as his legs would allow. He crossed the hangar deck while the ramp deployed, and started the engines before he was fully sitting at the controls.

Luke could feel the air blowing on him. Anakin was flying at a manic speed, and he almost wished that his father would outspeed him. But in this weird realm the laws of physics didn't apply. Some part of him knew that he only had to _think_ of a place to find himself there automatically.

On seeing the domed building ahead, a full-body shudder wracked through him and he began to tremble uncontrollably. There was no turning back. He had to face this, knowing it would damage him permanently. Knowing it was meant to be.

Then, Anakin was landing his ship and jumping out of it, heading at a run for the Chancellor's office. The pillared atrium seemed endless, but his father covered it in no time and turned to the right. He crossed the reception area at a more sedated pace, catching his breath and bracing himself for what was to come.

The scene he encountered seemed impossible. Palpatine was lying on the floor, cornered against the side of the broken panoramic window, with master Windu's purple lightsaber aimed at him at point-blank range.

"You are under arrest, milord," master Windu declared with great authority. He noticed Anakin's arrival and held out his free hand, signalling him to stop.

"Anakin, I told you it would come to this," Palpatine immediately sought his father's protection, projecting a totally defenceless image that made Luke rage inside at that monster's deep knowledge of Anakin's character. "I was right, the Jedi are taking over!"

"The oppression of the Sith will never return. _You_ have lost," master Windu proclaimed with finality.

The Sith Lord's facial expression and attitude changed abruptly into a truer reflection of who and what he was, and he reached out his hands.

"No, no, no. _You_ will die!" he screeched, discharging massive lightning through his fingertips at the unsuspecting Jedi master.

Luke gasped in horrified realization.

'_If you will not be turned, you will be destroyed.'_

It was the same torture Palpatine would inflict on him in the future! This was the way he would intend to kill him in front of his father.

'_Father, please!'_

Luke was petrified by the terrifying feeling of dèjá vu. He became a prisoner of the revolting scene he was witnessing. And it was just the beginning.

Thrown back by the brutal force of the Chancellor's attack, master Windu raised his lightsaber, and his instinctive move turned out to be the perfect defensive manoeuvre. Not only that. The purple blade deflected the lightning back at Palpatine.

"He's a traitor!" the Sith shrieked at his father.

"He is the traitor!" master Windu shouted, holding his saber in place for all he was worth.

In seconds, the toll of enduring his own Force-Lightning transformed Palpatine's face into a grotesque visage. His eyes turned yellow and sank in its sockets, his already sickly pale skin became pasty white, and the deepest lines that seemed to reach his skull completed the reshaping of the Beast.

"I have the power to save the one you love. You must choose," the Chancellor's weakening voice wasted no time in reminding his father of what the stakes were.

Up till then, Anakin had been a mere spectator of the titanic fight, but upon observing his father, Luke saw the change that was taking place in the core of his being. He looked mesmerized by Palpatine's display of power, his eyes darkened and filled with something sinister that surged up from some untapped part of him.

"Don't listen to him, Anakin!" master Windu exhorted the young Jedi, resorting to his last reserve of strength to fend off Palpatine's onslaught.

Lightning and sparks crackled everywhere and Anakin took a step back, shielding his eyes.

"Don't let him kill me!" Palpatine begged his father pitifully, apparently on the verge of drawing his last breath. His deformed, mangled face really gave that impression. "I can't hold it any longer. I can't. I'm weak. I'm too weak. Anakin, help me. Help me!"

And then, the lightning and the dreadful sounds stopped. Master Windu pointed his lightsaber at the wheezing Chancellor with a look of utter contempt.

"I-I-I can't hold on any longer," Palpatine repeated plaintively.

"I am going to end this once and for all," master Windu vowed.

"You can't," Anakin's first words since entering brought an ominous foreboding with them, and Luke thought he was dying with sorrow. "He must stand trial."

"He has control of the Senate and the Courts," master Windu countered angrily. "He's too dangerous to be left alive."

"I'm too weak," Palpatine butted in, and at that moment, Luke knew what pure, distilled hatred was. "Don't kill me, please."

"It's not the Jedi way," Anakin argued. "He must live!"

Master Windu's features hardened with the decision he was about to carry out.

"Please, don't," Luke thought he detected actual fear in those inhuman eyes.

"I need him!" Anakin spoke his heart's truth as his last hope to prevent... what came next.

Master Windu raised his lightsaber to deliver the final blow.

"Please, don't!" Palpatine moaned.

And just as the purple blade descended, the sound of an igniting lightsaber and a scream of "NO!" filled the air. A millisecond later, master Windu's arm was severed below the elbow. The useless weapon fell out of the window, followed by the Jedi master's yell of pain.

The Chancellor's face gloated obscenely. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for. He rose in an explosion of Dark Side power, and blasted his most lethal attack at the now helpless Jedi master.

"POWEEER!" he roared, zapping the man with every ounce of Darkness and hatred he possessed in his disfigured body.

Anakin staggered to his feet and watched with a mixture of horror and shock. Master Windu's body lit up from the inside, as every single cell was destroyed by an unnatural energy that seemed to devour life from within. Every bone became visible, eaten by the greatest evil the universe had ever known.

"UNLIMITED POWER!" every syllable appeared to infuse Palpatine with a vigour and potency ultimately meant to overwhelm Anakin with all the possibilities the Dark Side had to offer.

To Luke, it was the most atrocious, horrendous execution of a human being. He trembled violently, sick and nauseous to his soul, watching the Jedi master's inconceivable agony, that one day would be his own.

Endless, unbearable seconds later, master Windu stopped struggling, and with a final round of lightning, he was thrown out of the window until he disappeared from sight.

Palpatine lay back against the wall, casting a triumphant look at his soon to be follower.

Anakin's face was a mirror of everything Luke was feeling. Stricken with guilt, remorse and pure horror, his legs gave way under him. He stumbled back and collapsed on the flat surface of the hologram projector. His lightsaber fell from his nerveless hand.

"What have I done?" he groaned in absolute shock, cursing himself for what he had allowed to happen in a moment of weakness. For the life he had allowed to be destroyed, the life of someone he had always looked up to, even if master Windu had never trusted him. Maybe _because_ of it. And now, he had proved him right. Such hideous betrayal could never be forgiven, or forgotten. By himself first and foremost.

Palpatine stood and walked up to his father gravely.

"You're fulfilling your destiny, Anakin," he answered to his soulful cry. "Become my apprentice. Learn to use the Dark Side of the Force," he rumbled in a masterful tone of voice. As if his words were some kind of prophecy that was being realized with his father's surrender.

Anakin's upper body sank lower and he shook his head in self-disgust. It wasn't as much a surrender to the Dark Side as a surrender of himself, of his free will, of his inherently good and bright Destiny, of everything he had been and everything he _could have been_.

"I will do whatever you... ask."

And it was then, seeing Anakin renounce everything that no free man should ever give up, not even for the noblest cause, that Luke lost it. The stoical, self-disciplined façade crumbled, and the Jedi Knight succumbed to the horrified child watching his father fall.

* * *

Padme let out a muffled yelp when she saw the young man she thought unconscious sitting up with a spasm. His eyes were glazed over, unfocused, halfway between dream and reality.

"NO!" Luke cried out, leaping out of bed and dashing out of the room.

Fearing that he'd hurt himself in his frenzied escape, Padme followed him as fast as her heavier body permitted.

"Luke! LUKE!" she called after him.

Luke ran down the corridor and out to the veranda. A part of him knew where he was now and what he was doing, and another was still up there with his father, witnessing the unspeakable moment when Darth Vader was born.

His feet stopped dead when they reached the top step of the staircase, and his eyes focused for the first time. He was fully back inside his body; alone, bereft, an orphan with every meaning of the word. He looked around disconsolately, but there was nothing to see, nothing to hear but his own grieving, bleeding heart. He raised his tearing eyes to the night sky and committed his soul and his Destiny to the two words that burst from him, burning and radiant like a sun.

"FATHER, NO!"

And he knew no more.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	9. Chapter 9

Voices. He could hear voices in the background.

Sweet voices.

Caring voices.

Loving voices.

Sweet, caring and loving for _him_.

"He's been unconscious for an hour now. Anakin, we _must_ call a doctor."

"Trust me, my love. He's all right. He's healing even as we speak."

"My goodness, just look at him. How come we didn't see it? How could we be such a...?"

"He's coming to."

A warm hand settled on the side of his face, cradling it and pressing itself against his skin with such fervour that it brought him all the way out of his stupor. His eyes blinked open and when the fuzziness dissipated, they zeroed in on two still figures leaning over him. The male one was sitting to his right, and the female one to his left. Her eyes were a bit swollen, but so full of wonder and love that he had to look away, to the young man who was holding his face in his palm. He was biting his lower lip and his chin trembled with emotion.

"Anakin!" he sat up with a jerk, almost disengaging the hand on his face. "What happened? Did he...? Are you...?"

"Shhh, little one," Anakin reassured him, massaging his scalp soothingly. "I am perfectly all right. Still me. Still sane. Still keeping my soul... thanks to you."

Slightly breathless, Luke's gaze turned from his father to his mother, and back to the gentle blue eyes he was drawn to like a river to the sea.

"Lie back down now," Padme urged him; and it never crossed his mind to disobey. He realized then that she was holding his left hand between both of hers on the bed where he was lying oh-so-comfortably.

"And... Palpatine?" he whispered the name fearfully.

The fingers twitched in his hair, but after a brief pause, they resumed their reverent stroking.

"Dead," Anakin replied drily. "As he should have been for a very long time," his voice shook with shame and regret.

Luke swallowed the lump in his throat and let out a long sigh that seemed to last forever.

"I couldn't help it," he choked out. "I saw you giving yourself to him and... and..."

"...And you found the only word that could save me from a destiny a billion times worse than death," shuddering, Anakin framed Luke's face in both hands adoringly. "Oh, my son. My son!" he exclaimed, savouring the sound of those three letters that, put together, formed a miracle; his and Padme's blessing come alive.

Luke's eyes opened wide and searched his father's face eagerly. His heart fluttered with apprehension now that everything was out in the open. There was so much to say, so much to explain! Would his parents understand why he had lied to them? Would they forgive him for his deceit? Would they...?

Caressing Luke's cheek tenderly, Anakin answered to every emotion his child's eyes communicated.

"There is _nothing_ to explain, _nothing_ to forgive. It is *I* who should beg your forgiveness on my knees," he looked down and shook his head, cursing himself once again. "How could I accuse you of... when I knew you only meant well to us." He withdrew into himself for an instant and released a harsh, self-deprecating laugh. "I told you to never expect signs in the sky or booming voices in your head, and look at the answer _I_ got. My own son came down from the sky, spoke into my mind and saved my hopeless soul."

Luke couldn't find the words. There weren't _any_ words to be said. He could only lose himself in the indescribable love and gratitude he saw in his father's eyes.

"Can you forgive me for everything I put you through, my guardian angel?"

There was no stopping what happened next. Sitting up again, Luke wrapped his arms around his father and hugged him for dear life. His soul soared when Anakin returned the hug, crushing him so hard against his chest that his ribs protested. He buried his face in his father's shoulder, submerging himself in the most beautiful and perfect moment of his life.

'_I don't deserve an angel like you,'_ Anakin's heart ached with self-hatred and remorse.

'_You deserve everything!'_ Luke tightened his embrace even more, sinking his fingers in his father's hair, caressing the thick blond strands and comforting Anakin with all that he was.

A sublime eternity later, they moved back just a little. Just enough to press their foreheads together.

"You were right after all," Luke said softly. "I was thrown back in time so you could keep me safe, and make a difference in my life."

"A father will _always_ be right about the safety of his children; even his unbeknown children," Anakin's response was dead serious and unequivocal.

"Yes, sir," Luke rejoined, making both of them laugh poignantly, bashfully.

They sniffled and rubbed each other's upper arms. They _couldn't_ relinquish their hold on one another. Luke took a deep breath and for the first time since he arrived, he opened his senses all the way. Light pervaded everything, and hummed in his veins with exulting happiness and joy. The suffocating shroud of Darkness had vanished as if it'd never existed. There was total peace and beauty around, within and without.

'_You feel it too, don't you?'_ his father's ebullient mind-voice warmed his heart, and he nodded.

'_My goodness, if I can tell the vast difference, what will it feel like for him, who's lived over half his life under Palpatine's Dark influence unknowingly?'_

Luke scanned his father through the Force. The change in him was staggering. Gone were all the shadows, ambivalences, anger and turmoil that had almost been his undoing. This was Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight, in all his glory. The man he'd hero-worshipped all his life, the father whose steps he had followed, hoping to be worthy of calling himself his son one day.

There was only Light and prosperity in the future now. Under Anakin's wise, painstaking guidance, a new era for the Jedi Order was about to commence.

"Is this the answer you sought?" Anakin asked him in a whisper, anchoring his hands on Luke's shoulders. "Is everything the way it should be?"

Luke met the pristine blue eyes that looked at him humbly. He allowed himself to be swept away by his father's protective presence, and the overpowering certainty that he'd fulfilled the destiny that had brought him here. Finally.

"Yes," he replied, leaving no room for doubt. "Everything is the way it should always be," he moved back all the way, smiling at the joyously grinning face, so much like his own. Then, he turned his head and met the breathtaking brown eyes that watched them with so much pride and love. He reached out and wiped away the tear that trickled down a rosy cheek. "Mother." The word tasted like heaven on his lips. "Oh, Mother!"

"My baby!" Padme's arms opened and brought him close, as close as their bodies would allow, and it still wasn't close enough. "I should have known. I should have known!"

Luke hid his face in the thick dark curls, nuzzling them needfully. He was totally past words. He just wanted to feel his mother holding him. Her warmth, her scent, all of her. He closed his eyes and breathed her in, wishing this moment would last forever.

All of a sudden, remembering the babies' reaction to his proximity, he drew back with a start, making the three of them jump.

"The baby!" he said impulsively, retreating as far back as he could.

"It's all right," Padme hurried to dispel his fears, taking a quick hold of his hand again. "It stopped kicking and squirming when you passed out," she tipped her head and caressed her belly lovingly, looking down at it. "It's as if... as if it understood that everything's fine with us now, with our lives... with you..." her head snapped up at him when everything suddenly clicked. "My goodness, it is you!" she gasped. "It is _you_... in here!" she looked down at her stomach again and then turned her flushed face to her husband, whose eyes were fixed on her belly, staring at it in disbelief.

Anakin reached out one unsteady hand and placed it on his wife's abdomen, shaking his head.

"It's... mind-boggling," he murmured, feeling a small movement against his palm. "And at the same time, so... perfect," he looked at Luke, and a stunning smile illuminated his features. "Our perfect miracle."

Luke's gaze dropped self-consciously, and Anakin swiftly put his other hand under his chin, bringing his face up. He studied avidly every tiny little feature, seeing Padme and himself in them.

Padme's hand joined in and caressed Luke's cheek with her fingertips.

"I always said that you could be Anakin's brother." In retrospect, she had to smile at her misguided cluelessness.

"I guess your mother was right," Anakin touched the dimple on Luke's chin with an impish grin. "It's a boy."

The three of them burst out giggling like teenagers. But soon enough, the giggles gave way to something so deep and unstoppable that could only be sublimated in each other's arms. They laughed, and cried, and cuddled against one another, never wanting to leave that sacred circle of warmth and belonging.

Luke had never felt so loved, so cherished. He felt like every cell in his body was vibrating in harmony with his parents' bodies. He soaked up his mother's roaming caresses all over his back, and his father's devoted kisses across his forehead. This was a moment worth dying for.

'_I'd give my life so he could have a second chance and do the right thing.'_

In a bloodcurdling moment of clarity, Luke realized that _that_ was exactly what he had done. On changing the past, he'd destroyed his future, the timeline he came from. The ruthless brutality of the discovery hit him like a bullet in the head, and he clung to Anakin and Padme, doubling over in shock.

"Luke! What is it?" Anakin cried out, feeling his son's body sag against him and his spirit shrink in naked terror.

Luke couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but shiver and tremble in denial, telling himself time and again that it couldn't be, that he was mistaken, that it didn't have to be like that. But in the essence of his being he acknowledged the sacrifice implicit in his altruistic act.

'_Force, help me! Please!'_ he shouted, praying for balance, for strength. _'They must never know. It would kill them if... Please, please, don't let them find out!'_

And it was the mental image of his broken parents that enabled him to find the courage to recover and offer a shaky smile at them.

"Forgive me," he straightened up, begging the Force to present a calm front. "But I... I'm... I have to go," inhaling with a shudder, he tried to extricate himself from Anakin and Padme's arms.

Padme and Anakin looked at each other with identical expressions of anguish and loss.

"Delaying it will only make it worse." Luke closed his eyes, fighting to accept the truth of his words with every instinct he possessed. _'Please, help me! Help me!'_

Anakin's eyes, all of his senses, were riveted on his child. He could feel Luke's inner conflict, but what had brought it on? Shaking his head, he tried to take things one at a time, but he found it next to impossible. His heart was so full! Full of love and admiration for his boy. So extraordinary, so brave, so beautiful! He wondered how he had managed to live all his life without this love. Only... maybe he hadn't. Maybe he'd carried this unique, special kind of love in his innermost self forever; lonely, hungry, desperate, waiting for the only one who could understand him inside and out, and be with him like only his own flesh and blood could.

He felt his son's lifeforce beating, breathing, thriving within his own soul, and he wanted to get lost in that beauty and dwell in it for the remaining of his days. He would do _anything_ for Luke. He couldn't live without him anymore.

That's why the mere notion of losing him, of locking away the four most important days of his life in a corner of his mind and never speak of them again... Force, he _couldn't_ do it! He didn't want to bring himself to even consider it! But they had no choice. Luke didn't belong here, as much as he'd selfishly tried to convince himself of the contrary. His unborn Luke's life would be in danger then.

Looking down into Padme's brown depths, he saw the same ruminations going around in her mind. He saw the same aching need to never part with Luke again, to hold him and honour him, and never stop telling him that no parent could ever dream to have a better child. And he saw the same resignation and surrender to what simply couldn't be.

As one, never losing physical contact, they rose from the bed and all wrapped around one another, finding support and strength in the unity they were, they walked out to the veranda. Not a sound was heard, only the faint brush of cloth against cloth, of their bodies feeding on each other's love for the last time.

The golden light of the lamps on the sofas' armrests cast a mournful atmosphere that heightened the feeling of imminent separation, making it unbearable. They stopped by the fountain and merged into a heartfelt hug.

Luke stepped back a little and met Anakin's eyes.

"May the Force be with you, Father."

Anakin trembled inside at the ineffable love that word conveyed. Once more, its power washed over him, redefining him for good, giving a new meaning and purpose to his life, and realigning his priorities.

All the things that had worried him and kept him awake at night since his marriage to Padme turned out to be so trivial, so irrelevant! Being made a master, not being made a master, the media scandal they would have to face when everything came to light, being expelled from the Order... Force, who cared about all that? He couldn't believe how much he had based his opinion of himself on what other people thought of him, on being the best, the bravest, the greatest. What his son had done for him, for _all of_ _them_, put everything into perspective, and all his achievements paled in comparison.

His Destiny lay with his family, and he would spend the rest of his life trying to be worthy of it, nurturing it, protecting it, being a good father and a good spouse; for in the end, those were the only things that mattered. That would be his true legacy.

He placed his hands on Luke's shoulders and squeezed them passionately.

"May the Force be with you, Luke Skywalker." And on speaking his son's full name for the first time, he felt the bond between them, the personal and spiritual connection they shared, take root so deep within their souls that he couldn't tell where he ended and Luke began. It was a christening, a claim, an acknowledgment of his child as his own man. Bending forward, he kissed the silky blond hair, wetting it with his tears. His final blessing.

Luke threw his arms about his torso and Anakin never felt so much love.

'_I love you, my saviour, my teacher, my master. I love you more than life itself!' _he enfolded himself around his son, imprinting the touch and feel of the smaller body onto his, until he knew he had been branded by them.

Luke pressed hard against him, as if he wanted to disappear inside him, but mere seconds later he moved back, denying himself any more closeness. Anakin understood his child's motives, but it still hurt. Besides...

Luke turned to Padme, who snuggled her head in her son's chest as soon as his father released him. He held his mother to him, entangling his fingers in the long, curled hair, feeling its softness caress his skin.

And it was watching this perfect scene that Anakin's heart almost stopped.

Luke's misted eyes turned to him while he rubbed his cheek against his mother's head.

'_Will I still lose her?'_ he asked, feeling his insides being torn apart again by a well-known, inexorable fear.

Luke's face twisted in a pained grimace.

'_I just know that you turned and...'_ his silence was explicit enough. But on seeing his distressed face, he lost no time to offer all the hope that was within his reach to give. _'But everything's changed now. You will be with her this time, and maybe you will make a difference then. Have faith, Father. Anything is possible, as long as we stay true to ourselves, to the Light and the love that binds us together.'_

Force, what was with this young man, who had the unerring power to bring peace to the darkest corners of his mind? Luke saw hope where he only saw negativity and death. It was a new and crucial lesson for him to learn. One he would strive to master one day, with his son's patient teaching.

Luke's steadfast faith in him bolstered his self-confidence to unimaginable heights. No one had ever shown such absolute trust in his ability to beat the odds and make the impossible happen. And looking into those fortright eyes, he knew he would rather die than let down such incredible faith.

Composing himself, he walked over to Luke's X-Wing, giving him and Padme the privacy they needed to say their goodbyes. As he got his son's flight suit and helmet, their soft, whispering voices floated up to his ears.

"_I knew you were here to help him. And you ended up saving us all, and the Republic."_

"_No, Mother; I didn't..."_

"_I promise you that I will do everything in my power to end this intolerable self-complacency that brought us to the brink of destruction. We *will* make a future worthy of the present you've given us. You showed us the way, and we will make it real."_

"_I know you will. I love you, Mother."_

"_I love you, my son. My sweet, brave, beautiful son!"_

Biting his lips, Anakin raised his head to the heavens and lost his gaze in the glitter of the few stars that were visible through Coruscant's luminic pollution. Very soon, his son would be flying amongst them, like a true _Skywalker_...

And then, his guts constricted with an unendurable feeling of foreboding that came out of nowhere.

What the...?!

Luke's hand on his shoulder startled him, but quickly bringing himself together, he passed him the suit and observed him intently while he put it on. With practised ease, Luke zipped up the orange suit and then held out his hands to him. Blinking in confusion, it took him a few seconds to understand that his son was asking for his helmet. He quickly gave it to him. Luke took it and turned about, staring up at the black sky for a few moments, as if saying goodbye... And then, his whole frame was racked by a hair-raising shudder that echoed through Anakin's very soul.

"NO!" he shouted as the implications of Luke's act struck him like a thunderbolt. "Oh, Force, no! NO! What have you done, my son?" he grabbed Luke by the arm and whipped him around.

Tears glistened in Luke's eyes, revealing his defeat and fear. Fear of the unknown, and defeat at his fate having been discovered.

"What? What is it?" Padme ran up to them, her paling face _demanding_ an answer.

Anakin began to hyperventilate as he took Luke's face in his uncontrollably trembling hands.

"You killed yourself," he whimpered, sobbing so hard he could hardly get the words out. "You have no future to return to anymore. Your timeline ceased to exist the moment you saved me."

Padme let out a choked moan and clutched at Luke in an instinctive reaction.

"NO!" she wailed in denial, squeezing his arm so tight that the young Jedi winced in pain. The helmet fell from his hands with a clatter that resonated through them like a death omen.

"Please," Luke begged, trying to free himself from his parents' unyielding grasp. "I have to go. Please... please, let me go."

But Anakin and Padme only clutched at him harder, psychologically and emotionally devastated. And Luke knew they would never let him go.

"Everything will be all right now. But I must fulfil my destiny. You _must_ let me go! Mother, Father, please!", he pleaded, looking up, not knowing what kept him going at this point. _'Force, help me! Help us!'_

Anakin slid down to his knees and buried his face in Luke's stomach, crying inconsolably.

'_I killed you twice, little angel of mine!'_ he wept into Luke's mind. _'When I mutilated you... and now. There can be no forgiveness for me. For what I caused to happen in your world, and this! I'm so unworthy! I'm unworthy of your sacrifice, my son! You can't die because of me! Please, don't die, my son! Please, don't die because of me!'_

Luke groaned. His father had put all the pieces together. Force, wasn't there enough torment for them to suffer? He reached down and cradled the back of Anakin's head in his palm, holding it against him.

"I love you, Father. And this love will sustain me wherever I go. This is not the end. It can't be!"

"No, please! No, please!" Padme sobbed, hiding her face in his shoulder. Suddenly, her legs gave out.

Luke grabbed his mother around the waist, holding her up gently.

Anakin reached up and helped Luke to support her. With an extreme effort, he rose to his feet and held Padme until they made sure she could stand on her own.

'_You must be strong for her!'_ Luke beseeched his father. _'_We_ must not suffer any harm!'_

Anakin looked at him as if he was asking for the only thing that was beyond him to give.

'_Please,'_ the young Jedi implored desperately. _'For me? For _us_?'_

Anakin hissed through his clenched teeth, and gathering strength from a place he didn't know he had, he nodded despondently.

They took Padme slowly back to the couches and sat her there. She refused to let go of Luke's hand as he knelt down in front of her.

"You _must_ have faith that we will see each other again," he entreated her, kissing the small hand time and again. "I have this feeling that..." Luke tried to articulate something that he didn't quite understand himself. Some inner, unforeseen knowledge that was coming to their aid when they needed it the most. "Somehow... in some way, we *will* see each other again... one day."

Padme shook her head erratically, refusing any empty words of comfort. Her baby, her son, her heart and soul was going to die, to disappear into nonexistence. Her very mind was slipping away in inconcievable grief... bit by bit...

Luke's hand held the quivering chin between his fingers, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"We. Will. See. Each. Other. Again." He enunciated every word, infusing them with a power and authority that defied any argument.

And somewhere deep within, Padme believed. Luke's faith _commanded_ her to accept his affirmation and reject any shadow of a doubt.

Luke's smile blossomed in her heart, along with a feeling she'd never have thought to have a place in this situation.

Hope.

His piercing blue eyes bored into hers, and she knew she would remember that look until her dying day.

Holding her gaze, Luke bent his head and kissed his mother's hand one last time, pressing his lips hard against her skin. Then, he stood up and kissed her forehead in a pledge that was still beating in his heart when he turned to his father.

Anakin didn't even seem to be there. The shock and trauma were too great, and there was just nothing left inside him to draw strength from.

'_Look at me,'_ Luke ordered the man who'd sired him.

And Anakin obeyed instantly.

Reaching out, the young Jedi took his father's hands in his own, and pushed his Force-presence across the bond that joined them. He needed Anakin to understand what he was about to say, for that was the true reason that had brought him there, he knew that now. The reason why he had been born.

'_Promise me that you will never allow anything to be more important than your principles; more important than your convictions about right and wrong. Without that moral compass, we're lost.'_

Anakin's lips trembled as tears welled up in his eyes.

'_Promise me that you will never give in to hate,' _Luke insisted._ 'That it will never be a choice in your mind and your heart. Love is the only truth that matters. Love has more power than anything in the Universe. Love is what brought me here... to you. Love is what will always bring me to you.'_

"I promise on my soul," Anakin vowed aloud, heedless of the scalding tears rolling down his cheeks. Why did it always take a tragedy to finally understand what one should have known all along? Why did his enlightenment have to cost his son's life?

Luke's face shone with contentment when he heard his father say the words. Releasing the big gloved hand, he wiped away the evidences of Anakin's pain with his thumbpad.

"My mission is truly complete _now_," he sighed serenely. "I have my family back. The rest is up to you, _master_."

Anakin reached out to him to embrace him, but Luke moved back hastily, putting his palm on his father's heart, stopping him.

'_Stay with Mother,'_ he asked. _'She needs you.'_

Anakin's arms dropped to his sides, unfilled and needy, crying out for his child. Luke's eyes took on an ethereal quality then. The crystal blue of his irises seemed to ripple, to come alive with love, cocooning his father in it.

'_Farewell, Anakin Skywalker. I'm so proud to be your son!'_

Anakin bit his lips mercilessly, dying inside when Luke began to retreat.

"I love you both," the young Jedi's statement reverberated throughout every corner of his parents' beings. And with that, he turned about, picked up his helmet from the floor and walked up to his X-Wing. He climbed into it, adjusted his helmet and closed the cockpit.

The engines came to life, and the small fighter rose gracefully, seeming to float like a feather, facing the veranda.

Luke had to look at his parents for the last time. He needed that last image of them, together.

His mother stood beside his father with her lithe arms around his torso, and her head on his shoulder. Her husband's arms around her smaller body made the perfect picture he would take with him.

'_Look at us, Leia,'_ he addressed his twin sister lovingly. _'And they don't know you're coming. That will be our gift to them. They'll have their little Princess too.'_

He inclined the nose of his X-Wing downward, saluting his parents respectfully. Padme sank her face in Anakin's chest, and his father's eyes fell closed. When they opened again they were swimming with such heartbreak that for a single second, Luke's resolution wavered.

The futility of his wishes brought him back to the reality he couldn't get away from. Turning his ship about, he accelerated brusquely, heading off for the destiny that awaited him.

Uncertainty and trepidation gripped his throat. He didn't even have Artoo to make the fear bearable and just... be with him. He was alone, utterly alone, facing... oblivion.

'_Luke... my angel.'_

'_Father!'_ Luke's soul sang, pure and innocent like a child's, at the sound of the beloved voice. _'What...? How...?'_

'_I won't leave you, little one. I am with you here and now, and forever.'_

Luke's heart missed a beat, sobering immediately.

'_No, you mustn't. I won't ask you to...'_

'_You won't go through this alone. I am your father, Son. Nothing will ever part me from you. If you must go... I'll be there with you until the end, holding your hand. Don't worry about me.'_

And his father's ultimate act of love infused Luke with the hope for the future – his future - that had faltered momentarily.

'_I love you; and I'll be with you too, forever. We will see each other again. You won't lose me. You won't!'_

'_I know. You helped me to find the strength within myself, and now I will be yours. I swear I will be the father you deserve!'_

'_You are. You're the only father I ever wanted. Even... then.'_

Luke felt his father's essence going out to him, and all of a sudden, it *was* there with him, in the cockpit. Anakin seemed to have channelled himself into his mind, and he was sheltering him from his fears, caressing his psyche with soft murmurs he couldn't make out.

The X-Wing crossed the atmosphere of the planet and began to leave the dark, arid sphere behind. Stars came into view, and the blackness of space engulfed everything. It was close, very close now...

'_I am here, Luke. Always with you. Always...'_

His father's mind-voice was like a lullaby, warming him, soothing him.

Force, to be so loved...!

A faint feeling of dizziness came over him, and Luke recognized the signs. Unconsciousness was upon him, and his heart skipped a frantic beat.

'_Father!'_ he cried out.

'_Just let go, my dear angel. Don't be afraid. I'm holding you in my heart. Always in my heart, my baby. My precious angel...'_

Luke knew that a big part of his father was being damaged forever by this, and still he was going through it, shielding him... loving him more than he'd ever been loved in his life.

'_Let go, my sweet baby... Your father's here, always and forever. Always here for you!'_

A lonely tear ran down Luke's pale face and then, there was no fear anymore. Just love. His father's all-encompassing love... for all eternity.

TO BE CONCLUDED...


	10. Epilogue

EPILOGUE.

Voices. Whispering voices in the darkness. Talking about something... somebody... about him.

No, not again! This was getting to become a habit.

"He's definitely coming around."

He heard rushed footsteps and then the cool, smooth surface where he was lying sank under someone's weight.

"Oh, thank heavens!"

"Go and call your father now. I'll watch over him."

"It's all right. He probably already knows."

Those two weren't the voices he expected to hear. He knew them, but... somehow, they didn't _feel_ right.

Why? Why didn't they feel right?

"Hey, kid. Do you think you can say something for me?"

He tried to get his mouth to work.

"Ungh... Ahh... Han?"

"The very same. You have a harder noggin than it seems."

He struggled to open his eyes. Force, they were so heavy! He felt as if he had been sleeping for a century!

"W-What... hap-pened?" he blinked his eyes open, but the light was so bright that he had to squeeze them shut again.

"Don't you remember?"

"L-Leia?"

"Yes, Leia. You know, your sister. As in twin sister?"

"Very funny," he attempted to rise on one elbow.

A small hand settled on the back of his neck and rubbed it softly. The pressure and confusion in his head ebbed considerably. He tried to open his eyes little by little, until they got used to the light in the room.

Han and Leia were sitting on each side of his bed. They looked the same as he remembered them, but something about them was... off, leaving aside the concerned look on their faces.

Han wore an elegant white shirt, buttoned up to the last button, and a dark blue vest. His hair was shorter than usual and his face was... younger, for lack of a better word. And Leia... she was as beautiful as she'd always been, but her features were more luminous, less tense and... adult than the Leia he remembered from... where? Her lovely hairstyle, all loose, curled and cascading down her back, interspersed with long, thin plaits gave her a very youthful appearance. She wore a simple, short-sleeved, cream-coloured linen dress and a green sash around her waist that accentuated her figure.

"What happened?" he asked again, fixing his gaze on his sister's brown depths.

"You were meditating with Dad on the veranda and suddenly you passed out, just like that," Leia explained. "Han had just arrived, and we took you to your room."

Luke's eyes rolled in their sockets and he shook his head, trying to clear it and make sense of the situation.

"You've been out for half an hour," Han's voice still held a tinge of worry. "Your father couldn't wake you up, and we feared it could be something serious," he pointed at the door with his thumb over his shoulder. "He left a minute ago to contact your mother, in case we had to take you to a medcentre."

"Oh, my! What a mess," Luke said, sitting up all the way in the bed and looking around... his bedroom?

Yes, it was the same bedroom he'd used when... when he... crashed on his parents' veranda? No, it couldn't be. He'd never crashed his ship... Force, what was going on?

He brought his hand up to his head.

"Are you all right?" Leia touched his shoulder, steadying him.

"I-I don't know," he stuttered, sweeping his glance over the furniture and finding it different from... well, _different_. There were models of ships and fighters on the shelves, holograms on the walls of himself and Leia as children with their parents, when he was a teenager with Leia and their padawan friends at the Jedi Temple, and the most recent one, of Han and himself laughing at one of the Corellian's outrageous jokes, during Han's birthday party three months ago.

Yes, this _was_ his bedroom, unquestionably. He cast a final look at his computer terminal and his lightsaber on the desk. The saber he'd based on uncle Obi-Wan's design... Ben's design. _Ben's?_

"You seem a bit distracted," Han commented kindly.

Luke brought his hand down in his lap and looked down at it.

"Yes. I feel somewhat..." he raised it again and studied it in amazement. It was flesh and blood. His right hand was restored! "What the...!" he exclaimed, touching it all over. The fingers, the palm, the wrist.

Han and Leia looked at each other, a bit apprehensive.

"Luke, do you want me to get Dad?" Leia asked in all seriousness. Her brother still was a mite pale, and he was plainly disoriented. Not to mention his strange behaviour...

"Huh?" Luke's eyes turned to them, looking mystified. "Oh, no!" he shook his head again, continuing his manual inspection. "Besides, he's coming." His features softened just when the door opened.

Anakin strode into the room, heading straight for his son's bed. Leia stood up and moved aside while their father took her place.

"Luke! Are you all right, Son?" Anakin asked breathlessly, holding Luke's upper arms.

Luke's eyes opened wide, staring at his father as if seeing him for the first time. Where was the young face he'd last seen? His father looked like... well, like the man in his forties that he was. Maybe younger than his actual years and still in great shape, but even so... the softness and roundness of his young features was more defined now, more angular. There were some wrinkles on the corner of his eyes and around his mouth, and a few gray hairs in his sideburns. His wavy hair was shorter but his eyes were just as blue, caring and full of character and passion. There might be a touch of sadness in them too, like an old wound that had never healed completely, and had left a profound scar deep within...

"Fa... Dad!" Luke's happy smile did wonders for his father's state of mind. The wide shoulders relaxed and the answering smile of relief brought a real youthfulness to his features.

"Are you truly all right?" Anakin searched his son's face, looking for signs that confirmed his child's well-being.

"Yes," Luke nodded. "A bit fuzzy, but I'll be fine."

The young man couldn't stop scrutinizing his father – his face, his informal Jedi attire, consisting only of a light blue tunic and pants, and his utility belt - and Anakin noticed. He raised his eyes to his daughter.

"He seemed disoriented when he woke up," Leia answered the unspoken question. "He looked around the room as if he didn't recognize it."

"He's been unconscious for quite a while, so that could explain it," Han speculated, rising to his feet as well.

"Perhaps," Anakin didn't look very convinced.

Luke observed the exchange between his father, his sister and his best friend with awe. Fragments of two different sets of memories were beginning to coalesce in his brain, forming a disconcerting picture that in some crazy way, made sense.

Anakin eyed his son again, whose gaze had turned inwards.

"Your mother's on her way," he said.

Luke's eyes focused anew and he made a regretful grimace.

"I'm sorry you alarmed her unnecessarily."

"I had to tell her. We were ready to take you to a medcentre," Anakin put his hand on Luke's face, needing the physical contact to reassure himself. It had been the most terrifying experience, calling out to his child's mind and receiving no reply, not even at a subconscious level.

Luke smiled tenderly at his father, becoming aware of the scare he'd given them all.

"I'm sorry I frightened you," he apologized wholeheartedly. "I don't understand what happened." He reached up and covered his father's hand with his own.

"Uh-oh," Leia's chuckle interrupted the father-son bonding moment. "Let's clear out of here, Han. They're getting all mushy."

"Hey!" Luke's face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. "What about showing your big brother some respect, tomboy?" the corners of his lips twitched in a barely concealed grin.

"Watch it!" Leia's index finger shot out, aimed at Luke.

Anakin witnessed the scene between his children with a benign smile.

"Yeah, watch it, kid," Han butted in, pursuing the teasing of the youngest Skywalker. "She may be a tomboy, but she's _my_ tomboy."

"Why you...!" Leia mock-slapped her boyfriend's arm.

The sudden silence triggered everybody's laughter. When they collected themselves, Luke took his sister's hand and pulled her close, kissing her cheek affectionately. Leia returned his kiss and opened the link between them.

'_Are you all right now?'_ she asked.

'_Yes,'_ Luke replied, meaning it. _'I am recovered.'_

Leia smiled gladly and nodded at him. Then, she turned to her father, placing one comforting hand on his shoulder. She leaned over and they kissed each other's cheeks. Anakin caressed his daughter's face with the back of his fingers, loving the silky feel of his little Princess' skin. Leia straightened up and cleared her throat.

"Oh, well! Come on, Han," she told the young man standing beside her. "Let's go out and wait for Mum," she grasped his wrist and practically dragged him along.

"You kissed your brother, you kissed your father... do you think you could get chummy with me now?" the Corellian asked drily on his rushed way out of the door.

Luke and Anakin watched the couple leave the room holding back their mirth. In those few seconds, Luke remembered how and when he'd known Han. He'd been assigned by the Senate to pilot his mother's transport three years ago. His work had easily introduced him into the family, and he'd become Luke's best friend in a matter of days. His parents warmed to his sardonic humour, witty charm and disarming honesty just as fast. Leia took longer to "convince," as their opposing personalities had clashed at first; but after a time it became evident that they were intensely attracted to each other, and they were resisting that attraction by getting on each other's nerves, and bickering constantly. Until six months ago, the inevitable happened. At this stage, Han was another family member in his own right - Luke's big brother, and a sort of adoptive child for Anakin and Padme.

Father and Son's eyes locked, and they shook their heads at the pair's antics. It was then that Luke realized the scar across his father's right eye had vanished. Anakin looked at him interrogatively, and Luke shook his head again. He remembered now. He'd discovered his gift of healing when he was five years old, and he'd regenerated his father's right arm and erased the scar across his eye. Still, he felt impelled to check it out, and he lowered his gaze to his father's hand. There it was, all flesh and blood. His heart swelled in his chest with the sweetest joy.

"So!" he raised his voice with exuberance. "Is there anything I can do to prove to you that I'm fully recovered, Grand master?" he bowed his head playfully.

"No need, my padawan; I can tell," Anakin smiled softly at his child's light-hearted mood. "But there's still no explanation for what happened out there," his tone of voice became deadly serious. "Your mind was beyond my reach, Son. Your heart was beating and you were breathing, but to all intents and purposes you were..." he drew in a shaky breath, wanting to forget the last thirty minutes of his life.

Luke took hold of his father's hand and squeezed it hard.

'_I'm here, Dad. I'm here,'_ he soothed him gently.

"Do you remember anything out of the ordinary?" Anakin insisted earnestly. "Something strange? A vision, maybe?"

Luke pursed his lips in concentration. He began to shake his head slowly.

"No. I was just letting my mind wander. I wasn't even..."

'_Please, don't deny it. It's written in your blood.'_

He gave a small start.

'_Father, please!'_

'_I will do whatever you... ask.'_

'_Can you forgive me for everything I put you through, my guardian angel?'_

'_I always said that you could be Anakin's brother.'_

'_You killed yourself! You have no future to return to anymore!'_

'_I have no memory of my mother. I never knew her.'_

'_I'm unworthy of your sacrifice, my son!'_

'_Somehow... in some way, we *will* see each other again... one day.'_

'_If you must go... I'll be there with you until the end, holding your hand.'_

In the name of the Force, what was that? A dream? No, it couldn't be. If it was, then it was the weirdest dream _ever_. He'd been experiencing one flashback after another since waking up, all of them so vivid that he couldn't tell if even _this_ very moment was a figment of his imagination. He shuddered, fearing he was losing his mind.

"I... I don't know what's happening to me," his voice shook with dread.

Anakin immediately held his son's chin in his hand, offering his eyes for Luke to find a point of focus. Blue met blue and flowed into each other like water in a stream.

'_I killed you twice!'_

'_Please, don't die, my son! Please, don't die because of me!'_

'_This is not the end. It can't be!'_

'_You won't lose me. You won't!'_

Luke's eyes brimmed with tears, and he hissed at the onslaught of emotions slamming into him like a wall. Anakin's eyes skittered around him in a delicate caress that made his soul flutter.

"I waited twenty two years, nine months and eighteen days to see you look at me like that again," the poignancy in his father's words was excruciating.

"What?" Luke's voice came out in a sobbing whisper.

Anakin's hold tightened, afraid of letting go. Afraid of living a dream. A dream he'd almost...

"Your mother and I doubted so many times throughout the years..." his mouth began to quiver, caving in to the relentless assault of memories. "I prayed, I begged, I despaired, I hoped... Oh, I _so_ hoped to see you again!" tears of inexpressible joy and gratitude spilled from his eyes like torrents of lava that burned a healing path down his face.

It was indescribable. The pain, the love, the _beauty_. The searing, resplendent beauty of the moment.

"Was it... Was it real, then?" Luke's throat ached with the effort of holding back tears that cried out to be shed. "Was I really here... with you? With Mum?" He knew. In his heart and mind, he knew. But he needed the final confirmation. He needed to hear it from his father's lips.

Anakin's face glowed with the radiance of the man who's finally at peace with himself after a lifetime of self-recrimination.

"You kept your promise, little angel of mine," he cupped Luke's head in his hands, and pressed his forehead against his son's. "You said we would see each other again, and you kept your promise!" his body was racked by helpless sobs that exploded from him in a violent release of all the pain, and love, and beauty. "Forgive me for doubting you. Please, forgive me!" The floodgates opened and he wrapped his boy in his arms like only a parent that just got his long-lost child back from the dead could.

Safe and secure now in his father's embrace, the scattered fragments of the puzzle assembled at last, revealing the full, glorious truth. Luke's arms enveloped his father with all the love that had reached across time and space, and brought them together once and forever.

Their bodies couldn't possibly get any closer, hug any tighter, and yet they tried over and over, desperate to get lost in each other.

'_You kept your promise too,'_ Luke wiped his eyes on the neck of his father's tunic. _'You became the Jedi master you were destined to be, and saved the Order. You're our guiding light, Father. Force, I'm so very proud of you!'_

'_No one ever knew that everything I did was in your memory, my son. To honour the child that sacrificed himself for my soul!'_

'_I love you!'_

'_I love you so much!'_

They abandoned themselves to the other-worldly, exultant feelings erupting inside them, and they held each other, rocked each other, soothing the raw edges of their overwhelming reunion.

The bedroom door slid open and Padme walked in, freezing on the spot at the scene she encountered. Anakin and Luke were crying their eyes out, hugging for all they were worth. The emotion in the room was so thick that she could almost touch it. Her heart almost beat out of her chest in a rush of panic.

"Oh, my goodness!" she whimpered, running towards the bed and sitting on it beside them. "What is it? What's wrong?" she put one hand on her husband's back and the other on her son's head, and stroked them both, trying to calm them, and herself. Leia and Han just told her that Luke was all right, so what was the reason for this?

"Nothing, my love. Nothing!" Anakin smiled through his tears, fighting to regain his composure, even if that was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted to shout his happiness to the heavens!

"It can't be nothing!" Padme burst out. "Why are you crying?" her voice shook with anxiety.

Finally, Luke and Anakin began to draw apart. Hesitatingly, reluctantly, as if it caused them physical pain to separate. Their hands went automatically to their faces, and they took away each other's tears, giggling shyly. Anakin inched closer and kissed his son's reddened eyes, blowing a soft, shuddering breath on them. Luke dropped his gaze and turned to his mother, smiling at the beloved older features.

Still breathtakingly beautiful – the same exotic dark eyes and perfect mouth, the long brown hair, with occasional streaks of gray now, framing a perfect oval shaped face – but just like his father, the youthful softness of her skin had given way to more defined, angular features, and some wrinkles below and around her eyes and mouth. Her senatorial outfit was exquisite – a lilac, square-necked, velvet gown; a dark blue belt around her waist and a silver tiara holding her hair. He tried to say something, anything, to ease her mind, but he could only shake his head, overcome by his feelings.

Padme reached out and caressed the slightly colourless face.

"You're a little pale," she murmured, moving her fingertips around a smooth cheek.

Luke's smile broadened at that. He took the small hand in his own and kissed it with infinite devotion.

"It's all right," his lips quirked knowingly. "I'm much more handsome the rest of the time."

Padme's expression froze at the sound of those words. Her heart did a somersault and then started to race wildly.

"W-What did you say?" she asked in the weakest voice. She didn't want to _dare_ to hope, she _refused_ to hope, because she wouldn't survive if...

Luke took both of her hands and held them between his own.

"Now I know why Leia and I are addicted to Nubian chocolate," he bit his lower lip and his eyes started to glitter again.

Padme observed the beautiful features as if her very life depended on it, and it _did_. Those gentle blue depths stared at her with _recognition_, acknowledging the memories they'd shared so many years ago. Trembling with the need to believe, she turned frightened, expectant eyes to her husband, who returned her tremulous smile with an eager, joyous nod. She turned again to her child.

"Is it... Is it really you, my baby?" Tears streaked unnoticed down her cheeks, and she released one hand from her son's sweet grasp, framing the side of his lovely face reverently, almost like touching a dream.

Luke snuggled his cheek into the palm of his mother's hand. Bringing up his own, he removed the wetness from under her eyes with his thumb, caressing the precious wrinkles there.

"If I could choose between all the mothers in the universe, I would _always_ choose you," he repeated the declaration he'd made more than twenty years ago, adding the modifier that meant everything.

And those were the words that broke Padme. With a strangled cry, she fell into her son's arms, nestling into him with all the longing in her grieving heart. She clung to his muscled back, nearly ripping his tunic. Her small frame began to shake convulsively, and Luke held her tight, hiding his face in the curled tresses. When he instinctively began to nuzzle them, he remembered the _last_ time he had done it, one dark night, so long ago.

Padme soaked her son's Jedi tunic with her tears, pouring out all the heartache and suffering that had accompanied her for twenty two years. Gradually, when rational thought returned, there was only one question on her mind that begged for an answer.

"But how? How can it be?" she moaned, her words muffled in Luke's chest. She jerked her head back and raised imploring eyes to her child. "How?" she asked desperately, turning briefly to Anakin.

Forcing a superhuman control on his emotions, Anakin sniffled and took a shaky breath before attempting to answer his wife's heartbreaking query.

"It must have happened when he was meditating, or when he passed out," he explained in a thick, raspy voice, taking hold of Padme's hand and interlacing their fingers.

"That's why I felt so disoriented when I woke up," Luke said in awe. "I needed a little time to reintegrate all these new memories."

Padme lifted her free hand tentatively and touched her son's lips, feeling them move against her fingertips.

"I can't believe it," she shuddered down to her soul when Luke kissed them. "It's a miracle!" she sobbed again.

Luke cradled his mother's face in his hand and kissed her forehead, ignoring the tears that bathed his own cheeks.

"I couldn't let you think that you had lost me forever," his voice carried the echo of another time, with its hopes and miseries, and also a love strong enough to defeat any obstacle. The young man sought his father's eyes and smiled into them. "I had to come back to you," he reached out to him. "I will always come back to you!"

And when he found himself again in his parents' arms, like that evening all those years before, Luke remembered something he'd read once as a child, he didn't know where or when.

'_...Don't forget what happened to the man who suddenly got everything he always wanted: he lived happily ever after.'_

THE END.


End file.
